In the Long Run
by jenmc
Summary: Set after Smurf's funeral in Newport, the future takes a very different turn for both Molly and Charles. Can they eventually find their way back to each other?
1. Chapter 1: Unfinished Sympathy

_**AN1. Hello! I've debated for a little while on whether to write, and then whether to share this story or not. It's more angsty than I usually like to write, but it's persistently floating around my head, so I have eventually come to the conclusion that I will have a go regardless. If it's an utter disaster, I can stop, and we can all just pretend that this never happened ;-)**_

_**Anyway, first chapter is below. This story is written on the basis that everything leading up to, and including, Smurf's funeral, actually happened. The rest of what we saw on screen after the funeral should be disregarded. I am really quite anxious about the change in tone, as it feels like a bit of a departure from the other two stories I've written. I really hope you all enjoy it though, and delighted to hear any feedback that anybody wants to give. I do know where I want to take this, but it will take a bit of time to write and fill in the blanks, so the uploads may not be the quickest.**_

_**Oh, and one more thing! Each chapter is named after a song which fits in my head with that chapter. For me, part of what made OG as good as it was, was the soundtrack. I really love music, and since I started writing creatively, I usually do it with certain songs in mind because it helps me to visualise the atmosphere I've tried to get across. Poncey, I know, but just thought I would share the inspiration with anybody who's even remotely interested! **_

_**I'll shut up now and get on with it...**_

_**Chapter 1 - Unfinished Sympathy**_

_**Charles **_

_**23 May 2014**_

Charles James nursed a glass in front of him, tapping its bottom edge intermittently against the table as he studied the amber liquid inside of it. The bitter aftertaste of the whisky was sticking to the roof of his mouth, and doing nothing to quell his aching throat.

Soft music played overhead, and he sat at the end of the sticky leather booth, leaning his elbows against the wooden bench in front of him. The discomfort of the seat did nothing to assist the ache in his abdomen and leg, and he registered absent-mindedly that he should probably get up and walk for a couple of minutes, to keep up his prescribed daily exercises. He hadn't done them for a couple of days now. The physio would have his head on a plate when he arrived at Headley for his next rehab session. He couldn't quite bring himself to care too much though. At least he was alive, which was more than could be said for Smurf.

It wasn't the first time he had attended the funeral of one of his men; far from it. But he had been under the false impression that, for once, he had come home from a tour where his platoon would remain intact and complete.

This time, he was the one who had almost died, before he had been pulled back from the brink. But fate had cruelly intervened at the last minute, and today, he had attended the funeral of yet another of the young men under his care. One of the men he was charged with keeping safe and alive.

He didn't think he would forget the sheer desolation on Candy Smith's face for as long as he lived. The guilt gnawed at his insides. She had given both of her boys to him, handed them over to his care, and he had let her down in the worst of ways. He could feel the tears begin to prick the back of his eyes again and looked down to try and stem them as he remembered the grief-stricken look on her face, together with the only words she had uttered to him today.

"_I gave the Army my boys. And they gave me back a flag."_

The memory struck a fresh pain in his chest, and he lifted the drink in front of him, swirling it around in the short crystal glass. He brought it to his lips, the liquid burning as it assaulted his hoarse throat. His eyes watered again as he swallowed what was left down in one, wishing with everything in his body that it would act as some sort of anaesthetic for the pain. That it would numb him. The last four hadn't, so he wasn't sure why he thought this one would be any different. He brought the glass back down with a gentle thud against the wooden surface.

"My round. Same again?" he stood, as he watched for any sign of affirmation from the men surrounding him.

The members of two section nodded from their places around the table, staring mournfully at the glasses set out in front of them, nobody sure of the right thing to say. In truth, there was nothing right to say in the situation, and instead, the table had been forced into silence as they all allowed private memories and thoughts of their former friend, and colleague, to play out in their heads.

They had all travelled to Newport together that morning, knowing that they were a unit, and they had to pull through this as one. They were staying in the hotel they currently drank in and would travel back home in the morning. All except Molly. She had already been in Newport with Candy when they arrived, and was staying at Smurf's childhood home for a couple of days. The thought rankled with him far more than it should have. He couldn't quite believe that he was now jealous of a dead man. He was truly pathetic.

Brains was the first to break the long silence at the table, drumming his fingers on the solid wood as he spoke, desperate for something to end the haunting level of gloom descending. If Smurf was here, he would have been the one lifting everyone's spirits with a wisecrack. He motioned to stand as he spoke.

"Sit down boss. You can get the next one in. I'm getting them this time."

"It's fine Brains. I'll get one more round and then I'm going up to my room."

"We can't leave yet." Brains looked at him seriously, brow furrowed in a knot. "Molls said she would try and make it along once she had made sure Mrs Smith was sorted out."

Charles focused on maintaining eye contact with the man in front of him, trying to convince himself that he wasn't affected by the mere mention of her name. "We've been here for hours. She isn't coming."

"She'll be here. She wouldn't miss this." Fingers interjected, looking up for almost the first time that evening.

Mansfield agreed with the boss though, and buoyed by the alcohol in his system, he spoke his mind.

"She ain't gonna come out here with us for a drink, she's just buried her bloke."

They all looked at Mansfield warningly as he mentioned the elephant in the room, nobody else willing to mention it in front of the boss. It was against the rules after all.

"He wasn't her bloke Mansfield, don't talk bollocks." Dangles knew exactly what Smurf had been like with Molly. He was a lovesick puppy but he'd never seen any true indication from Molly that she felt the same. Mansfield was talking out of his arse as usual.

"He fucking was" Mansfield swore adamantly. "I swear to god, those two were loved up. You'd have to be blind not to see it. And anyway, why's she staying with his mum if it's not true?"

Kinders nodded from his seat in the corner before adding his opinion.

"I reckon he's right lads. I mentioned to her in Cyprus that I'd clocked it. She didn't say anything, didn't deny it."

"That don't mean it was true." Brains concurred with Dangles on this one. There was no way Molly and Smurf were together, and he knew exactly why. He wasn't as clueless as the rest of the lads. He peered into his empty glass regardless, acknowledging that he wasn't going to win the debate, and not wanting to push it further with the boss standing right there. Nobody else had clocked the bossman's quiet despondency at the tone the conversation had taken, but Brains had. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch for, and Brains didn't often miss a trick. Hence the nickname.

Luckily, none of the rest of the men had noticed their captain still standing at the table, simmering quietly, fists clenched at his sides. "Can you lot shut the fuck up? I'm buying one more round and then I'm calling it a night. I suggest you all do the same. You can wait here for Molly all night if you'd like. She's clearly not coming."

"Nice to see you've got such faith in me bossman." A lone female voice cut across the argument from behind him.

He closed his eyes, feeling himself stumble very slightly. Must be the whisky. He tried desperately not to whirl around at the mere sound of her voice. Whilst part of him was desperate to look at her, the more sensible part of his brain reasoned that seeing her would be a very, very bad idea right now. He was emotional, bordering on drunk, and was at the very edge of his ability to be sane and rational after the events of the day.

She didn't wait for him to turn around, and sat down at his now vacated seat. He took the opportunity to break the silence, looking at her for the first time. She had changed from her uniform, unlike the rest of them. She now wore simple jeans and a black top, her hair released from its usual bun to fall around her shoulders. She looked at him hesitantly. He held her gaze for a few seconds before dropping it again, looking to the side awkwardly, trying to hide his pain as well as he could manage, arms crossed over his chest, hands burrowed under his armpits. He was retreating, protecting himself.

"Drink, Dawes?" he silently marvelled at his restrained tone, feeling the wall of tension which existed between them as though it had been constructed from bricks and cement. Maybe he was more sober than he'd given himself credit for.

She ignored the tension, staring at him more resolutely now. "Vodka and coke please. Double, since I've obviously got catching up to do" she murmured, surveying the table full of empty glasses. He nodded slowly, trying his utmost not to stare, and retreated to the bar, limping very slightly as he moved.

He was determined to get this over with. He would get the drinks in, pay, and get away from this room as fast as he possibly could. Staying here in the mood he was currently wallowing in, would lead to absolutely nothing good. He was smothered by the guilt of the whole situation, and simultaneously ripped apart by the fact that he and Molly were very evidently not going to be together. Not now.

It had been easier at the church today to form the necessary sense of detachment; to act as her boss rather than the man who, not less than three weeks ago, had taken her to dinner and declared that he loved her, that he wanted her to be brilliant. Now, it was as though everything that had happened between them had been a dream. It now bore as much relevance.

As he stood at the bar, waiting for the drinks, he unwillingly revisited that night. He vividly recalled all sorts of images of Molly naked under him, panting his name in reverent tones, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he thrust back and forth on top of her before they came apart together. It had been the best 24 hours of his life. Anything had seemed possible when it was just the two of them, in each other's arms.

They had spent the night together, a mass of naked limbs wrapped up in each other, talking for hours about everything and nothing. They had only paused the talking on a couple of occasions; when lust and need overtook the need to speak. All too soon, the morning arrived and she had reluctantly gathered her things and travelled back to London. He had dropped her off at the station, pulling her towards him for a lingering kiss; no finesse, just raw passion, trying to convey just how much of a difference she had made to him. She had nearly missed the train; wrapped up in his hold, granting him more sweet, brief pecks on the lips before she left.

"Don't miss me too much" she had grinned impishly at him as she walked away. He knew he wasn't likely to comply with that request given that she had his heart under lock and key.

That had been the last time he had seen her. Until today. They had spoken on the phone every few days afterwards, and sent text messages back and forth. But that all stopped on the fateful day that Smurf collapsed in front of her. The first time he had any type of communication with her since she had phoned to tell him the news was in the church today. He had tried, god knows how many times, to call her, with no response. He got the message, loud and clear.

He wasn't sure where he had found the strength to leave her alone, to detach himself. But he had. He had even managed a smile and a half laugh at her Tardis joke (_oh how he wished he had one of those_), and told her that '_if there was ever anything he could do_' then he would.

As if she was just one of his soldiers. As if he wasn't in love with her. As if they hadn't made love for hours on end, until they had collapsed in each other's arms and slept for hours, neither suffering from nightmares for a change. The whole charade of pretending none of that had happened had eaten further at him, increasing the gnawing sense of pain that threatened to erupt inside of him tonight.

She had told him in the church today that she was going back to Afghan, and it had been yet another nail in the coffin of them. He could see the distance in her eyes. He could also see the guilt reflected in them. Deep down, they both knew that they had played a part in Smurf's death. If they hadn't had that moment in the compound, it was unlikely that there would have been a shooting. They could have captured Badrai alive, and avoided the whole nightmarish situation they had now become embroiled in.

He didn't blame her though. He blamed himself. It was his role as their CO to avoid this very situation, to lead by example and avoid becoming emotionally involved. He had taken his eye off the ball the minute he had become involved with Molly.

She wasn't to blame. _He was._

It still didn't quell the burning resentment that he felt when provided with overwhelming evidence that she loved Smurf though. And it was certainly a hot topic of conversation tonight. He knew exactly what the other lads were thinking, and whispering about when they thought he wasn't listening. About how she had taken Smurf's engagement ring, and was still wearing it round her neck when they came home. About how she had been with him when he died, and was staying with his mum now. They were questions he was asking himself. Back on that day and night in Bath, he quite frankly hadn't cared how strong her friendship with Smurf was. It didn't matter to him. But now, a toxic combination of guilt, pain, and jealousy was tearing up his insides. Which was why he had to leave, preferably now.

He realised that the barman had filled the tray in front of him with his requested drinks, and was waiting expectantly for payment. Charles apologised for his lack of attention before handing over a couple of dog eared notes from his wallet and taking the tray away from the bar. The drinks rippled and some began to overflow onto the tray, a combination of his uneven limp and uncoordinated stumbling. Those whiskies were now beginning to have an effect on his balance, and he felt a slight sway pull him as he walked.

He slammed the tray down a little harder than he had anticipated, and drew the attention of everybody seated at the table with the action. Baz Vegas dutifully lifted the drinks from the tray, ignoring the spillage that swirled around the bottom of it, and handed them out. In the meantime, a chair had been provided to him in place of the seat he had been in, which was now occupied by Molly. He would need to sit opposite her, in the only spot currently unoccupied. _Just what he needed_.

Brains took his opportunity, and cleared his throat before raising his glass midway in the air.

"Now that we're all here, I'd like to say a few words. Smurfoid was a one off; a piss-taking, sheep-shagging, daffodil munching, Welsh wanker." A few muffled laughs rose into the air from the table. "But he was _our_ piss-taking, sheep-shagging, daffodil munching, Welsh wanker. And we loved him for it."

"To Smurf." He raised his glass fully in the air.

"Smurf" the rest of the table matched him, raising a glass to their departed comrade.

::::::

He hadn't left. _Of course he hadn't_. As soon as he sat down and realised that leaving would involve dragging himself away from her company for the first time in weeks, he couldn't pull himself away. Even if it hurt, he wanted to be near her. He didn't add much to the conversation, just polished off his drinks in relative silence. He had lost count of how many he had drunk now. He remained a quiet observer as the banter began to flow, the copious amounts of alcohol on the go beginning to have their effect.

"We should do this every year. All of us, come to Newport on this day every year to remember him." Kinders was beginning to slur slightly now, but everybody at the table appreciated the sentiment.

"He would have liked that" Molly spoke quietly but resolutely, still miles behind the rest of them in the drinking stakes.

Kinders didn't stop there though, although he should have "it's ok, you know Molls" he launched an arm around her shoulder as he spoke. "You don't have to pretend with us lot that you're ok"

"Course I'm not bloody ok. I was at my best mate's funeral today."

"Molls. We all know you and Smurf were more than best mates. I told you in Cyprus that I knew you two were loved up. We're all family here, there's no need to pretend for our benefit."

Charles closed his eyes tightly, resting his head against the firm chair behind him, willing himself not to say a word. Molly certainly didn't say a word to correct Kinders, just looked at her hands.

He felt his stomach lurch, and suddenly released he was in trouble.

He felt a force propel him from his chair suddenly, shocking himself when he realised that it was his own body taking charge. He looked at the curious faces around the table, wondering why he had stood so suddenly, with such intent.

"Don't mind me" he tried not to look at her as he said it. "Call of nature", he beckoned his head towards the toilets, indicating where he was headed, and stumbled down the narrow corridor towards his destination.

He could feel the room spin as he moved towards the gents. The sweet, choking smell of perfume sat in his throat when a group of women passed him, dressed up to the nines, heels clacking on the hard floor.

"Alright soldier!"

"Cor, he's a bit of alright ladies. Check out the uniform."

He ignored them as he elbowed his way past the crowd, now feeling the bile rising in his throat. The door slammed forcefully behind him as he made it to a cubicle just in time, emptying the contents of his stomach into the white bowl. He felt the cold beads of perspiration on his head as he leaned against the cool porcelain, willing himself to get it together.

::::

When he had composed himself as much as possible, and flung copious amounts of cold water at his face in an attempt to sober up, he made his way towards the exit. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he exited, bloodshot eyes meeting him in the reflection. _How the hell had it come to this? _

He felt his footsteps stall before he was even past the threshold. She stood waiting outside, leaning against the wall patiently. At the sound of the door opening, she lifted her head and looked at him. Really looked at him, for the first time that night.

"You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She sighed, her irritation becoming obvious. "This reminds me of another conversation at the FOB."

_She wasn't the only one who was irritated._ "Yes, about the exact same topic, funnily enough." He looked away, every inch the sulking child.

He had to ask. _He had to know_. Before he could talk himself out of it, he threw the concept out there.

"Did you love him?" He asked under his breath, not quite sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

She looked at him in disbelief. "Of course I loved him. He was my best mate."

"You know what I mean Molly. Were you in love with him?"

"How can you even ask me that?"

"Well I think it's fairly obvious. You arrived at his funeral with his family. You're staying with Candy." He moved closer, until there was barely any space between them, and he could feel her shallow breaths hitch in her throat. He placed his fingers around the necklace which sat around her neck, pulling the bottom of it towards him to hold the offending item between his fingers and hold it between them both "you're wearing his fucking engagement ring."

"You're drunk."

"I might be drunk, but at least I'm being honest. It makes one of us."

"What do you want me to say? I loved him as a best mate. I'm wearing his ring cos he asked me to keep it safe till he needed it."

Her words stung him, and he choked back a laugh in disbelief before responding.

"Bollocks. You heard him Molly. That day in my quarters when you hid in the wardrobe. When he told me himself that he was giving that bloody ring to you. You heard every single word he said. You know he wasn't giving it to you to keep safe. He was asking you to marry him."

She was crying now, but he had to finish. Why the fuck did he start this, he had awoken a deep sense of rage inside him about the whole thing. "You had every opportunity to tell him no, but you didn't. You took it and wore it round your neck instead. What am I supposed to think?"

She looked up at him, tears still cascading down her cheeks. "Alright so I'm a coward! I didn't want to tell him no cos I couldn't face it. I offered to give it back when you were in the hospital, he wouldn't take it."

"Yes and you know exactly why! Because he loved you!"

She shook her head, as if she didn't quite register his point, and it infuriated him even more. He maintained enough self awareness to know that he had to stop this now, but the jealous, irrational, sulking boy inside of him egged him on regardless.

"How many times?" He practically growled at her.

She looked incredulously at him. "You what?"

"How many times did you sleep with him?"

Her jaw widened in disbelief. "Do you seriously expect me to answer that?"

"Well there's at least one that I know of. How many more times?"

He saw the look of disdain in her eyes, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had finally pushed her too far.

"You complete bastard. I can't believe you're actually asking me that. You know it was once, and it was in the past."

"Do I? I don't know anything anymore."

"You're right about that. You don't know anything. You certainly don't know me." She practically spat the words at him.

His head was spinning. He knew this was all wrong, but he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop lashing out, forcing her to deal with his pain. "For once tonight, we agree on something."

The words were out before he could stop them. A wave of nausea overtook him as he sank to the ground, unable to deal with the spinning for another moment.

All he saw was the back of her head as she stormed out of the hotel, and out of his life.

::::::::::::

_**AN2. So, that was the introduction. As you may have noticed, it's not the happiest of chapters, and our CJ and Molly aren't in a great place! Neither of them are perfect, and in the situation they are in, it would be strange to expect that of them. The plan I have in mind for this is angsty, although please be assured that I can't abide stories with an unhappy ending, it's just the journey to that part which might be painful! I'd really love to hear what people think of this, and whether it's worth exploring. **_

_**Song inspiration is Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Other Side of the World

_**AN. Hello! Thanks very much for the feedback on the first chapter. I'm really grateful to those of you who commented. This chapter lets us know where Molly is, and is set four years after chapter 1. Hope you enjoy!**_

_**::::**_

_**Chapter 2 - Other Side of the World**_

_**22 April 2018**_

_**Molly **_

"Molly" She heard the faint Irish accent cry from the hall of the apartment as she dried her hair, just out of the shower. She switched the hair dryer off and the volume of the voice increased.

"Molls?" The voice continued to seek her out before she had a chance to respond.

"Jesus, give me a minute." She muttered under her breath as she pulled her dressing gown closer around her. It was now spring, but the last of the freezing winter air still circulated in the draughty room, and she shivered as she moved.

"What is it?" She stuck her head out the door and looked at her roommate expectantly. Julia was a true Irish beauty; statuesque, with long red hair that flowed down past her shoulders, and stunningly beautiful features. Molly always wondered how she could look so effortlessly glamorous at all times, even in their line of work. She was on the landline phone that nobody ever used, and looked at Molly, obviously exasperated with whoever she was speaking to.

"Phone. For you." She thrust the receiver towards her without further word to whoever was on the other end.

"Who is it?"

"What am I? Your PA? I dunno, some scouser with crap chat up lines about Irish accents."

Molly felt a twinge of guilt assault her. She knew exactly why he was phoning; she had been avoiding him for weeks. She grabbed the receiver from Julia without another word.

"Brains?" she enquired into the receiver.

Julia hadn't left yet, and mouthed the word '_brains_?' back at her in distaste before Molly shooed her out of the way and sank into the chair in the hall, pulling a blanket over herself to keep warm.

"You can tell Miss Ireland that my chat-up lines are mint. She just doesn't appreciate true genius. She sounds like a fucking riot by the way", he added sarcastically.

Her heart warmed at the familiar voice rolling down the phone, and she grinned widely, despite her misgivings about the discussion they were probably about to have.

"Don't mind Julia. She's got an empty hole where her heart should be." Molly giggled lightly as Julia's retreating figure delivered a two fingered salute in response before she let her bedroom door slam behind her.

She could almost see his grin as he laughed. "I do love a woman with an empty hole that needs filling."

"Nice to hear that you're still a pervert."

"At least I'm consistent Molls."

The conversation stalled, Molly waiting for him to bring up the inevitable. He didn't disappoint.

"Glad you actually came to the phone, since you've been dodging my emails, and your mobile's off. Thought I was gonna have to fly out there meself to make you talk to me."

Molly sighed, knowing already where the conversation was going. "It's not you I'm dodging, just the subject."

Brains maintained a neutral silence, not wanting to push her too much. "Mmhmm."

She addressed the bone of contention herself. "I ain't going to the reunion Brains. I can't anyway. I'm too far away."

"Don't lie to me Molls."

"You what?"

"Since you've been dodging me, I already spoke to your mum. I know you'll be back here on leave next month. You might have been able to use bein' out the country as an excuse for the last 3 years, but I know for a fact you'll be in London this time. It isn't that far from Newport."

_Bollocks_. She would kill her bloody mum.

"I can't go, Brains."

He sighed, knowing the reason but wanting her to admit to it. "Why?"

"You know exactly why. I ain't gonna spell it out, you muppet. Not sure you'd understand if I did. Alphabet's a bit advanced for you ain't it?"

"Oi. Less of that, cheeky." A moment of silence followed before he brought it up.

"Would it help if I told you he weren't gonna be there?"

She took a steep breath for courage, telling herself that it was nothing to do with the topic of conversation.

"That would depend.."

"On what?"

"On whether you meant it, or if you're just saying that to get me to agree to come."

"Ah _shit_, that would've been a better plan wouldn't it?"

"Shut up, you idiot." She sighed hesitantly. She didn't want to risk knowing the answer, but asked anyway. _She couldn't help herself._

"Why ain't he going?"

"Says he's got some training course he can't get out of. Don't believe him for a minute. So in the annual, '_who'll be the one to miss the reunion, bossman, or Molly_?' game, it's him pulling out this year."

She sighed yet again, the tone of the conversation depressing her. "Don't be like that Brains."

"I'm not _being like_ anything. You two won't be in the same room at the same time? Fine. I've given up tryin' to fix that. We've had this conversation the last three years in a row. I'm not takin' no for an answer from you this time. We miss ya, Molls."

There was an awkward pause as he weighed up whether or not to say what else was on his mind, eventually deciding against it.

"He's definitely not gonna be there?" Molly eventually ventured.

"He's definitely not gonna be there. Promise me you'll come?"

She knew there was next to no chance of her avoiding it this year.

"I'll think about it."

::::::

She ventured back to her room, having assured Brains that she would actually consider going along, and that in any case, she would meet up with him when she was back in the UK on leave. That part wasn't a hardship. She missed the lads from 2 section fiercely, and Brains had been the one who had always checked on her consistently since she left the UK. She knew he was probably reporting back; she knew that he still had the same boss, albeit that that they were now Major James and Lance Corporal Turner, but she couldn't bring herself to blame Brains. The mess she found herself in was nobody's fault but her own.

She had been in Canada, at the British Army Training Unit Suffield, for just over two years, placed as a permanent medic in the hospital at the base. She adored the job. The hospital offered primary healthcare to army personnel and all of the dependants living on base with them, which meant Molly had been given the opportunity to expand her experience way beyond anything she had ever dreamed.

The base was vast, and catered for massive army training exercises. The shifts at the hospital were long, demanding, and required total commitment, something which suited her down to the ground. She didn't want to think about much beyond her work. She had excelled in the role, and was completing her training to qualify as a trained nurse. She hadn't had another tour on the front-line after what happened during her first in Afghanistan; she couldn't go back to that. She had limited herself to training medics, in Afghanistan and then in Africa, before the permanent post in Canada had arisen.

She loved this time of year at the facility; it really came to life between the months of May and October, when nominated training battle groups would arrive at the base for 24 days at a time to train for the situations they would inevitably face on the battlefield. Every year, there was a regiment who stayed for the duration of the training times, and would act as the nominated 'enemy' for the purpose of the training exercises. They were all currently building up to the arrival of the large numbers of troops at the end of May. This would be the third time she had been involved in the busy period, and she was looking forward to it immensely. Ever since her arrival in Canada, she had buried herself in work, determined to keep the past firmly buried.

During her first few weeks at the hospital, she met Julia, a young doctor who also worked at the facility. They became firm friends, both appreciating the fact that neither took any shit in a male-dominated environment. The pair applied to live out in one of the various flat-shares just off of the vast base and had lived together ever since. She was ripped from her thoughts by Julia barging into her room unannounced.

"Who was that?" She enquired, never one to be less than direct.

"Just a mate I served in Afghan with."

She frowned, knowing there was more to it than that. "And? Where were you telling him you couldn't go?", she continued to pester for information. She had seen Molly being withdrawn like this before, and it only ever led to one topic of conversation. Not that Molly would be drawn on it often, but on the occasions she had, she had clearly still been devastated.

"Were you eavesdropping, you nosy git?"

"Ah come on, it's not often you get a call from a fella. I'm just checking it out, being a responsible flatmate."

"Can you go back to being the flatmate that doesn't give a shit please? I much preferred that."

"Stop avoiding. What's he trying to get you to go to?"

Molly shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to broach the subject, but knowing she would have to give Julia something. Persistence was her middle name, and she knew enough of the background to know why Molly was upset.

"They have that reunion _thing_ every year. He wants me to go along. It's nothing. No big deal. Really."

Julia gave her a knowing look. "Will '_you know who_' be there?"

Now Molly really was uncomfortable, as she recalled the first time they had even discussed him.

...

_15th January 2016_

_Within the first few weeks of Molly arriving in Canada, she and Julia had gone on an initiation evening for new staff at the hospital, army and non-army personnel. They had staggered back to their new flat, giggling about nothing as they climbed the stairs, drunk and chatty. Under duress from Julia, and her tongue loosened by the vast amounts of alcohol, Molly soon confessed the broad outline of what had happened with Charles all those months previously; she had fallen head over heels in love with him out in Afghan before it had all gone to shit and been ruined, mainly by her mistakes and stupidity. _

_They stayed up for what was left of the night, and into the early morning, sitting on the living room floor, drinking more wine and discussing the ins and outs of it. It was the first time Molly had ever discussed the situation in full. It was almost easier letting the words flow out of her to Julia, someone who rarely displayed much emotion about anything; and who had no judgement, took no sides. She was remote from the situation, and the people involved, and looked at it objectively. She listened to Molly as she laid it all out; from their time on tour, to Charles' and Smurf's injuries during the mission, their time together in Bath, Smurf's death, and that horrendous argument that followed the funeral in Newport. Molly had kept the events under wraps in her head for so long, that a dam had been unplugged. Once she began to share, she couldn't stop herself from continuing until most of the events were laid bare._

_When she had finished recounting the argument in Newport, she stopped, as though the story was now complete. In reality she couldn't bear to continue, Julia watched her curiously, still rapt in the details that her roommate was sharing, without any need for prompting, until now._

"_So what happened next?"_

"_What do you mean, what happened next?"_

"_Well he was a tosser to you after the funeral, you stormed out, but what happened after that?"_

_Molly looked at her feet shamefully. "That was the last time I saw him. I was in Afghan again less than a week later. I was transferred to another regiment when I got back; did another couple of training tours in Africa after we drew down in Afghan. Then I got the permanent post out here."_

"_Molly?" she stared at her roommate in disbelief. "You've never so much as spoken to him since? I mean, not at all?"_

_Molly's response was simple, but Julia could see the myriad of emotions that hid behind her eyes as she uttered her response. "No." _

"_Wow. Even by my standards, I'm impressed with how harsh that is." Julia was always one to call it as she saw it, and in this case the alcohol had increased that characteristic ten-fold._

"_You what?" Molly was quite frankly amazed at the response. Julia had acted like an ice queen most of the time since they had met, only showing chinks in her armour a few times. _

"_Molly! He obviously acted like a complete fuckwit, but from what you've said, he was pissed, and still getting over having three bullets put in him. You never so much as spoke to him again?! Did he try and get in touch with you?"_

_It was at this point that Molly began to flush, not feeling quite so secure about sharing further details._

"_Molly..?" Julia ventured, knowing immediately where this was going._

_Molly stared at her hands. "He phoned me afterwards. Loads. Well, hundreds of times probably", she continued to look down. "I switched it off eventually. I couldn't deal with what had happened, I was completely fragged. Went to Afghan the next week."_

"_Without saying a word to him?" Julia raised an eyebrow, trying not to show too much of what she really thought, and make a return to her neutral viewpoint._

_Molly got the picture regardless. "Yeah alright Jules, thought you were meant to be on my side here?"_

"_I'm not on any side. From where I'm standing, you both acted like complete arseholes."_

"_Break it to me gently why don't you?" Molly began to sniffle. _

_In reality, from the point that the story had reached Newport and the funeral, she hadn't confessed even half of what was going through her head to Julia. She had fallen apart that night, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, and choked with sobs of regret that the situation had come to this. Brains had been the one to find her a good while __later; cowering and sobbing, struggling for breath, mascara smudged down her cheeks, in a deserted corridor in the hotel, having overheard the tail end of the argument with Charles._

_He had tried to calm her down, with limited success, before delivering her back to Candy. They both knew that Smurf wasn't the reason for her hysteria, but maintained a silent understanding that they wouldn't speak of it again. She eventually calmed down and tried her hardest to lock it all away in a little box, never to be spoken or thought about again. She was driven by her own guilt and fear in the end. She was terrified by the strength of the feelings she had for him. It was too much, too soon. They wouldn't have stood a chance anyway. _

_Then, she was called up to Afghanistan early. She had been presented with the chance to run on a silver platter. She jumped at the opportunity and managed to convince herself that she was doing it for the best; it was best for everybody that she disappeared. If she had done it sooner, Smurf might still have been alive, and Charles might not have been in complete and utter meltdown._

_The side of him she had seen that evening scared her. It was completely out of character for him, and she knew had driven him to it. She convinced herself that he would he better off without her; that he would eventually forget about her and move on. _

_And so she ran. _

_She had been running for so long, that it was now impossible to do anything other than keep it going. She hadn't been able to move on in any way. There had been men, but they had only ever been a couple of drunken one night stands; fumbling, awful experiences, where she had to tell herself that she was obviously over him, because she could let another man touch her now. It didn't matter that it made her feel like she might vomit, not to mention like a cheap slapper. Hot tears now ran down her cheeks at the thought. _

_She was a complete mess._

_Julia regretted her frank words as soon as she saw the effect they had. Molly, from whom she had never so much as seen a tear fall, even during the worst cases in the hospital, began to fall apart in front of her._

"_Oh god. Am I gonna need to hug you or something? Crying people like hugs, don't they?"_

"_No, just leave me. I'm fine." Molly hiccuped, arms wrapped around herself for comfort, drawing in a deep breath as she tried to collect herself. She hadn't fallen apart like this over him in a long time. She tried frantically to put it all back in the box, pulling back her grief and guilt so that they felt like distinct objects that she could pack away in compartments inside of her._

"_I deserve to feel bad. The whole thing was my fault. If it wasn't for me, it would never have gone to shit in Afghan, and the rest would never have happened."_

_She trailed off, but she wasn't finished, thinking out loud. "It would never have worked out between us anyway, it's just as well it all went tits up when it did. Saved a load of heartache in the long run." She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself rather than Julia._

_Both women were beginning to sober up rapidly given the emotion of the conversation, and a slight awkwardness had set in. Nevertheless, Julia placed a hand on top of Molly's and tried to console her in the only way she knew how._

"_You wanna go back to telling me about the sex in Bath? Cos, to be honest, that was the best part of the story…" she ventured._

_Molly let a forlorn smile present itself on her mouth, despite the situation. She wished she could treasure that one memory, distinct from all the others. If she could just be allowed to keep that one out of the box, keep it separate from the ones she locked away, she might just find some comfort._

"_Now who's the arsehole?" she joked through her tears, the smile not meeting her eyes._

_..._

She was drawn back to the present from her memories of that conversation by Julia's expectant face as she repeated the question.

"Is he gonna be there Molls?" She looked concerned. Well, as concerned as Julia ever managed to look.

"No."

"Well there you are then. Go. Enjoy yourself. Try and let go of the past, Molls." Before adding, in a way that only Julia could, "and if all else fails, just get shit-faced and then you won't have to face it." She grinned at Molly, managing to coax a half smile from her.

The truth was, she was terrified to stop running.

But the time had come, she had no choice.

::::::::

_**AN2. So. Molly is in Canada, almost 4 years after the funeral, and still running away from her problems (and the reunion). She is in a sad place, blaming and punishing herself for what happened. Apologies for any angst overload, but I did warn that it wouldn't be all sunshine and flowers in this one! ;-)**_

_**AN3. My knowledge of BATUS is restricted to google information, so apologies to anybody with more extensive knowledge than me for any mistakes, or creative licence used for the purposes of the story!**_

_**My plan for the next chapter is to catch up with CJ, and find out just what he has been up to in the four years since Molly left him…**_

_**Song for this chapter was Other Side of the World, by KT Tunstall.**_


	3. Chapter 3: You Could Be Happy

**AN. Thanks again for all of your lovely comments. Time to catch up with our main man, CJ..**

**Chapter 3 - You Could Be Happy**

**23 May 2018**

**Charles**

The first thing he felt as he woke was Sam's long arm draped over his face. His son lay on his chest, his body rising and falling on top of Charles' as he slept peacefully. Ever since he was a baby, whenever either of his parents slept in the same bed as him, he would inevitably begin proceedings at the other side of the bed, but as the night progressed, he would inch closer and closer, until he was virtually on top of whoever he lay with. They called him 'the limpet' whenever they referred to sleeping with him; he sought out human comfort.

At this point in time, comfort was something Charles dearly needed, and he savoured the feeling of his young son sleeping on his chest, cuddled into him. Despite all that had happened, he was still 'something' in the eyes of his son, and it currently felt like the only thing that kept him going.

The bedroom was still only dimly lit, the early morning sun creeping through the gaps between the heavy Star Wars curtains on the windows. They both lay on the single bed in the middle of the room. Charles was now fully awake, and looked at his watch to assess whether he would need to rouse his peacefully slumbering son yet. It was 07.10 am. His injection was late.

_Shit, he would have to wake him._

"Sam" he coaxed quietly, as he began to move underneath him, hoping that the movements would trigger some sort of response. They did; Sam stretched on top of him, limbs stretched out like a cat, and looked up, one eye still closed, the other blinking slowly, his thick, dark hair ruffled from the night's sleep.

"Dad. What are you doing in my bed?" his son looked at him with curious eyes. He had turned 11 a few months ago, and it was _so not cool_ for an 11 year old to wake up cuddling his father, despite the fact that during the night, he had been calling out in his sleep for him, tossing and turning from a nightmare.

Charles omitted reminding him of that fact to spare his feelings. "I've missed you for the last two weeks. Just wanted to spend some time with my favourite son."

"Dad, I'm your only son."

"Well, you're still my favourite. And we need to do your morning injection, we're already ten minutes late."

"Ten minutes?", he asked in mock panic. "Don't tell mum. She'll take me to Dr Richards and make him check my bloods". Charles tried not to laugh at the dry observation; for an 11 year old, his son was extremely astute. He adopted his stern face instead.

"Sam, don't be unfair. Your mother just gets worried." He moved from the bed as he spoke, pulling out and unzipping the small package that lay by Sam's bed. He pulled out the small machine and pricked Sam's finger, registering the result of the blood sugar test as he took it.

"I can do it myself you know Dad, I'm not a baby" he complained, as Charles ignored the complaints and prepared the syringe, injecting it into his son's hip. It was a well worn routine, which neither considered as out of the ordinary. Sam was, by now, a pro with needles, and Charles had also been trained to within an inch of his life on how to administer them.

_Molly would have been proud of him_, he thought ruefully, shaking his head to try and dispel the thought as quickly as it had occurred.

He still thought of her every day, but the sense of guilt which accompanied those thoughts usually weighed him down so quickly that he tried to escape them as soon as he could.

Sam noticed the change in his father's temperament, and tried to cheer him up, giving him an encouraging smile. It was an increasingly common occurrence, and Charles realised that he was going to have to increase his efforts to keep his son blissfully unaware of the realities that surrounded him. Unfortunately for Charles, Sam was even more astute than he was aware of, and knew that his father was a deeply unhappy man. It had become part of their lives, and no matter how much he tried to pretend he wasn't weighed down, it was obvious to the young boy.

The injection over, Charles smiled ruefully and ruffled his hair. "Done. Now, you don't need to tell mum we were late. Our secret!" He tapped his nose conspiratorially.

They raced down to the kitchen, ready to start the morning. They were having an early summer heatwave, and the sun was already beating into the windows of the large kitchen. It was pristine, as always, surfaces wiped to within an inch of their life, and nothing out of place. Nothing material anyway. Charles was now used to the fact that everything emotionally felt out of place; he had long managed to numb himself to the despair he used to feel at the turn his life had taken.

Sam sat at the breakfast table, computer console already in his hands, while Charles bustled about, making breakfast. They went about their tasks in relative silence; Sam concentrating on reaching the next level in his game without using up too many lives, whilst Charles tried desperately not to remind himself what the date was today.

_May 23rd._ The date of the annual reunion. The anniversary of Smurf's funeral; the day he had ruined everything.

It had been four years, but it felt more like forty. When he told Brains that he couldn't go this year, he hadn't actually been lying with his cover story. _Well, it was only a half lie_. He could have gotten out of the training course if he had really tried, and in any case, it had finished a day early, hence Charles' early reappearance home after a 2 week absence. _But why bother, really_. The last three gatherings had been beyond painful, not to mention futile. They inevitably descended into a drunken rambling of memories of their time in Afghanistan together; something which Charles didn't want for one second to think, never mind reminisce, about.

_And yet._

He couldn't help but feel an immense sense of guilt about his failure to attend. He had long given up hope that he would ever see Molly there; she hadn't attended one reunion yet, and had apparently made it clear that she wouldn't be in the future. In any case, that was a door that was so far beyond slammed shut, that he didn't even dare to think about the consequences if they were to see each other again. He had condemned himself that day with his hasty words and actions, to a life of quiet misery. The series of occurrences in his life since that day had only ever served to cement that opinion.

He was disturbed from his quiet contemplation by the footsteps coming down the stairs, padding towards the kitchen. She stood, dressing gown wrapped round her body, blonde hair falling around her shoulders, a surprised look on her face when she registered Charles standing there.

"Charles?" she enquired hesitantly.

"Rebecca."

"When did you get home? I thought you weren't due back until late tonight."

"It was late last night. I didn't want to wake you."

"Where did you sleep?"

"With Sam"

"Oh", she trailed off uncertainly. They were both used to the awkwardness over their sleeping arrangements by now, but neither wanted to raise it in front of their 11 year old. As was usual for the pair, they shut out the strange atmosphere and carried on regardless. Charles carried on making breakfast, setting out a plate of toast in front of Sam.

"Oh Charles, don't give him the white bread. You know it's not good for his sugar levels", Rebecca complained as she whisked the plate away with distaste before Sam had a chance to lift the offending item. "We're off to see Dr Richards for a check up tomorrow, and I don't want his test results to be affected by any silliness. I'm going to phone and confirm the appointment now."

Sam smirked as he looked at his father, recalling his earlier thoughts on Dr Richards and blood tests, but Charles shot him a warning look as he replaced the toast with wholemeal, pacifying her as much as possible. _Anything for an easy life_, he told himself as she grabbed the phone to call the hospital.

He poured himself a coffee and joined Sam at the table. It didn't take long for his thoughts to venture back to Newport, and the day which had begun the devastating turn of events over the last few years.

…..

_24 May 2014, 1 AM _

_He didn't know how long he sat on the floor, trying not to be sick, trying to pull himself together after his meltdown with Molly. He had been pulled from his drunken stupor by Fingers. Although he was drunk, he retained the presence of mind to never wish to see such a look of pity from one of his men again. Fingers had pulled him to his feet, not wanting the rest of the lads to see, and supported him as they staggered down the corridor, eventually delivering him to his hotel room. He had left the room with only a few words, trying to console his Captain. They were ones which he had delivered with the best of intentions, but which Charles sensed immediately were incorrect._

"_It'll be alright in the long run Boss. Get some kip."_

_They hadn't spoken of it since. _

_And it hadn't worked out in the long run, of course. _

_He had pulled himself together the best he could the next morning, and tried to track her down at Candy's, but she was long gone. Candy had morphed from forlorn and grief-stricken to incredibly angry, and refused to answer any of his increasingly frantic questions about how long ago Molly had left, and where she was headed. The reception from Candy had only served to increase his self-loathing, and he headed back to Bath that morning, still trying to work out how he was going to fix what he had done._

_Evidently, he wasn't. _

_He called her time and time again, the calls all going to voicemail. He left message after message, all pleading with her to get in touch, but every single one went unanswered. Eventually, seven long days after the funeral, he had a lucky break, obtaining her address in London from a friend at Barracks with access to her personnel file, and he headed there, desperate to speak with her, to try and explain why he had acted the way he had. That he was driven by his own guilt, and anger with himself, rather than anger with her._

_His lucky break swiftly came to an end. Her dad was wary of speaking to the desperate man who had turned up on the doorstep, but seemed to have an inkling of what was going on. He said very little, only confirming that Molly had left for Afghanistan two days previously. Charles has asked him to tell Molly that he had visited, but had no idea whether the message would be passed on._

_That was the day that he finally realised he would never see her again. _

_He had given up hope that he would ever be able to redeem himself in her eyes. _

_There was no way back for them._

_Things had gone from bad to worse in his personal life fairly quickly from there, although professionally, there was significant progression. He had withdrawn his resignation. If he couldn't have the thing he wanted so very much in life, then he would just have to concentrate on what had always previously come first to him; his son, and the Army. _

_Unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind. On the one hand, his physical recovery and progression in the Army moved forwards swiftly; his loyalty was rewarded within 18 months with a promotion to Major. Things hadn't gone so smoothly with his other focus in life. _

_Six months after Charles' promotion to Major, in the summer of 2016, Sam was diagnosed with diabetes. He had been suffering from vague symptoms for weeks; listlessness, irritability, and becoming generally withdrawn. However, it was only when Rebecca snapped and insisted that he was taken to hospital, that the bad news really began. Sam had type 1 diabetes, a condition that was relatively common, but became increasingly dangerous the longer it remained untreated. Charles and Rebecca stayed at his bedside for days as the doctors diagnosed and began to treat the illness. Unfortunately, his young body had been the victim of the illness for too much time without diagnosis, and he became one of the unlucky few children suffering from Chronic Kidney Disease; an uncommon, but extremely serious complication._

_Matters spiralled from then on. Sam's condition steadily degenerated over the following months as they struggled to get his diabetes under control. He began to suffer from kidney failure, and was placed on dialysis. Charles thought he had seen some horrific sights in life, but absolutely none of them even came close to the sight of his 9 year old son wasting away in hospital, the victim of such an awful disease. Both Rebecca and Sam had come to depend on him again, life becoming based around the hospital day to day routine. He was granted temporary compassionate leave from the Army while they tried their best to work around the situation. _

_It was only now that Charles truly understood even a fraction of the pain that Candy Smith must have been in on that fateful day in Newport. The prospect of losing a child was horrendous. To lose one, and then another? He couldn't even comprehend it. The thought only served to increase his guilt; he was still at fault, and he guessed that this was his punishment. He had played his part in Candy having to suffer that pain, and he was paying for it now._

_In the background, Charles had moved back into the family home with Rebecca, doing his utmost to keep everybody else going. He moved back home, and saw the relief on Sam's face when he did so. Sam was desperate for his parents to be happy. Charles hadn't intended any sort of reunion with his ex-wife, but he put his own emotions to the side and dedicated himself to trying to fix whatever he could, for Sam's sake. _

_Eventually, a medical breakthrough arrived, and the clouds of gloom began to lift. It was confirmed that Sam would need a kidney donation, and that Charles was a match. The relief throughout the family was palpable, and Charles immediately knew that he had done the right thing in focusing on repairing his son, and his family. The organ donation from father to son was a success, and during August 2017, nine months ago, they finally reached the milestone that they had been working towards for almost a year. Sam was discharged from hospital, his new kidney successfully transplanted from Charles, and his diabetes under control. It was the only day throughout the past four years that Charles had felt able to breathe. His son was healthy. He would make it. But there was a new reality that they would all have to adjust to; life back together as a family. He and Rebecca really did try in the beginning, for Sam's sake, but the wheels were coming off of the situation rapidly. He couldn't bring himself to sleep in the same bed as her, never mind actually sleep with her, his mind still haunted with thoughts of what he and Molly could have had. It felt like a betrayal. He had tried, on a couple of occasions so far. To his eternal shame, he had closed his eyes and pretended he was back with Molly, back in his parent's house in Bath. He felt nothing but sickness and remorse afterwards. He hadn't been able to face it again after that experience._

_He had become steadily aware over the past few months that Rebecca was seeking affection elsewhere, and he resolutely ignored it. She thought that she was doing well, sneaking around with one of her work colleagues, but he knew. It was a relief to him. He no longer had to force himself to try in that respect. But they persisted in making an effort in all other areas, for Sam's sake. He was flourishing in every respect; catching up on the year of school work he had missed, becoming involved in sport again, making new friends. Charles couldn't bear to ruin all of that for his son. So he stuck around, and played the part of the husband._

_He had placed himself into this situation, and it was here that he would have to stay. For Sam. It was his duty._

_..._

But he also had another duty. This time, he realised that he would have to go to Newport, and do what he should have done all of those years ago. He would say goodbye to the ghost of Molly, and to a certain extent, Smurf, and then he would rid himself of the need to go back there every year to torment himself.

_It was for the best, in the long run._

"Charles? Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Rebecca stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

"Yes. Sorry. What?" He tried to catch up with whatever she had been saying to him while he collected his thoughts.

"Sam's gone to school, and I'm off out. What are your plans for today?"

He didn't know where the words came from, but they were out before he knew it.

"I'm going to Newport."

"Oh Charles, no. Not the reunion again?"

"Yes Rebecca" he brought his hand to his forehead, trying to block her out, not wanting to have this argument yet again.

"You know I hate you going to that. It only makes you morose and depressed. Well-" she added "-more morose and depressed than usual."

He glared at her "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Charles-" she looked at him accusingly. "-you mope around this place like somebody is forcing you to be here at the best of times. Whenever you disappear to Newport, and that reunion, you come back ten times worse. It's not fair on me or on Sam. The man is dead; and nothing you can do now will change that."

"It's not about that."

"Oh, I _know_ its not about that. It's about _her_." Rebecca spat back at him, her anger getting the better of her.

He glared at her warningly. "Don't go there Rebecca."

"No Charles, let's go there", she continued, her eyes steely. Charles recognised the look, and prepared himself for the verbal onslaught he was about to receive. _It felt like staring down the barrel of an AK-47._

"I can deal with you being a stranger. You've been one for years. I can deal with you using every excuse in the book to refuse to even share a bed with me, never mind actually touch me; no change there. I've come to expect it." He looked at the ground at that one, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. "But I will _absolutely not_ deal with you openly pining for that girl for another minute. Get a grip, you fool! You haven't seen her for what, three or four years? And by all accounts, you were the one to make sure you wouldn't see her again." She paused for breath before continuing.

"She's evidently moved on. Unlike you, _darling_." He winced at that one, her jabs beginning to gnaw painfully at him. "Now, incase it hadn't escaped your notice, we have a son to concentrate on. One who was at death's door less than a year ago. So can you _please _remove your head from your backside and keep focusing on that fact."

He looked up at her, doing his utmost to keep a level head. He didn't care enough to argue with her. He just wanted peace, for once.

"Anything else?"

"No", she met his gaze with a cold look of contempt.

"Well then", he rose from the table, draining the last of his tepid coffee from the cup. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, when I'm back from Newport."

"Charles-" her voice rose as he walked past her.

He didn't respond, and the slamming of the front door behind him masked whatever she began to shout at him.

::::::::

_**AN2. So...! Don't hate me! Charles is back with Rebecca, BUT, it's due to a lot of external factors combining to result in a total nightmare for him. He was already devastated from the loss of Molly. Sam was then extremely sick, to the point that he had to donate a kidney to him to save his life. He wanted to make things better for his son. And Charles is a man who is all about duty. So, he focused his energies on making life better for his boy. He gave him his kidney. He moved back in with Rebecca, and he tried to make the most of a very bad situation. I should point out that they didn't actually get remarried (I wouldn't go that far!), although they are, to all extent and purposes, living as a married couple again. Poor Charles :-( He is not in a good place, and, as we have seen, neither is Molly.**_

_**Next stop, the Venice of Wales. Who is on board?!**_

_**Song inspiration is You Could be Happy by Snow Patrol.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Gold Lion

**AN. Thanks so much for the really kind comments on the last chapter, particularly from those of you with experience of the medical issues explored in chapter 3. I do hope that the continued angst isn't too much for some readers, have had a couple of comments that the story is too dark. I would reiterate that I do have a plan for this, and while there will be trials and tribulations along the way, I wouldn't do anything too awful to our lovely Molly and CJ! As I've said, I do hate an unhappy ending! It's just the fun of getting to the ending that might be a bit bumpy…..**

**Well, I promised you guys some Newport action, and here it is.. hope you enjoy!**

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**Chapter 4 - Gold Lion**

**24th May 2018 **

**Molly**

It was the dry-mouthed feeling of a brutal hangover kicking in that first roused her, the room spinning before she even fully opened her eyes. She felt pain assault her eyelids when she finally did open them.

_Shit. Where was she?_

She struggled to place where she had fallen asleep, her surroundings unfamiliar. Frightened to move too much in the event that the spinning worsened, she strained to collect and piece the fragmented pieces of memory back together in her head, one by one. The effort of the exercise almost proved too much for her under-hydrated brain. Her whole body felt like it was throbbing, almost like she'd done ten rounds in a boxing ring.

_The reunion. She'd been at the reunion. _

She scrambled to think of what the hell had actually happened, but she could remember being there. She tried desperately to make sense of the broken pieces swirling in her brain.

She had definitely got the train to Newport from London. She was running late, trying her very hardest not to feel too nervous about the first time she would return, four years later, to the place that represented one of the worst days of her life. She knew that Charles definitely wouldn't be there; she had checked again before she finally agreed to attend, so that element of nervousness was removed. Nevertheless, she remained full to the brim with anticipation, anxious to avoid the memories of the funeral and the aftermath that still haunted her.

_That's right, she was definitely late. _

The lads had been in that pub that was only a couple of minutes away from the hotel. She still remembered the place from when her and Smurf had been in Newport on R&amp;R, and he had blown almost a hundred quid on a round.

Brains had told her to turn up for 7pm. She had already missed that by a good hour and a bit. The train had been stuck on the line for ages, and the delay only served to increase the sense of nervousness building within her.

_Come on Molly, what the hell happened after that? _She urged her brain to catch up faster, a massive headache kicking in. She was in desperate need of a drink of water to quell the horrendous hangover.

Suddenly, one of the major pieces of the puzzle came flooding back to her, and she froze, gripped by the memory.

….

_She walked into the busy bar, surveying the unfamiliar faces, some of whom swung round to get a look at whoever was walking in to the small local. Despite the fact that it was midweek, there was a healthy crowd, and she didn't spot the man she sought until she had looked around for what felt like a couple of minutes. Brains was at the bar, beckoning frantically and silently to her from a distance. She grinned widely, and made her way towards him, opening her arms for a wide hug. She was so nervous that it hadn't yet registered to her that he wasn't smiling back. He met her hug, but leaned down to whisper in her ear before she pulled away._

"_I didn't have a clue, ok? Just stay calm."_

_She had no chance to consider, or respond to his mysterious words of warning before she felt herself enveloped in a massive hug by two figures approaching from behind. She could just about make out Mansfield's ginger hair and Kinders' massive arms from her place under the two men as they practically jumped on her with excitement. The onlookers nearest to them in the pub gawped as the tiny girl in jeans and converse was descended upon by the two burly soldiers, hugging and kissing her as she giggled._

"_Molls!" they cried in unison, as they welcomed her._

"_Alright, you bellends?" she beamed, her nerves beginning to fade away as Mansfield trapped her in an affectionate hold under his arm, still delighted to see her, "-what are you boys drinking? I'll get a round in."_

"_Nah Molls, don't worry about it. Bossman's stuck his card behind the bar. I reckon he can keep us, now that he's proper important. He's a Major now, you know!"_

_As Mansfield spoke, she suddenly felt her legs wobble beneath her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. Brains watched her with concern, seeing the realisation and pain dawn on her face. Suddenly, his words of warning when she entered made perfect sense. She paled immediately, and felt her heart rate quicken immeasurably, adrenaline kicking in. Everything inside of her was urging her to bolt, but she was rooted to the ground, unable to engage her feet._

_Mansfield didn't take in her horrified reaction to his words, and continued to press himself against the bar, arm still around Molly, trying to attract the attention of the barmaid to order a round. She extricated herself from his embrace and steeled herself, taking the deepest of breaths. _

_Brains looked on, almost holding his breath himself. He recognised the look on her face; the same as four years to the day since he had found her, in the midst of a panic attack. He whispered to her so that the others wouldn't hear._

_"Deep breaths. Stop panicking."_

_The words registered, and grounded her slightly. This was the moment she had run from for four years, and there was no chance to prepare, no way to ready herself. She knew that as soon as she turned around, she would see the face that had haunted her for too many sleepless nights._

'_Be brave, Molly', she tried to urge herself to keep it together this time. She willed herself to turn around._

_When she did, she found a pair of chocolate brown eyes boring into her from the opposite end of the room, sitting at a table, surrounded by the remaining members of 2 section. The rest of them hadn't noticed her arrival yet. He sat in the middle of them, an unreadable look on his face. He was meeting her gaze intensely, drinking her in and apparently, unwilling to look away. She saw a glimmer of emotion express itself on his face, and felt herself shiver in response. He smiled uncertainly at her, and she felt warmth in her bones when he did. He didn't look angry; like he did the last time she saw him, all those years ago. He just looked like him again._

_His hair was a little shorter, his face slightly more worn by worry and age. He looked like he might have lost a little bit of weight; not a huge amount, but enough for her to notice. Despite the small changes in his appearance, he remained breathtaking to her. His eyes were exactly the same as she remembered them, and his gaze felt like it was looking into every inch of her soul. She felt completely exposed, and could barely locate the strength to tear herself away, only doing so when she felt Brains gripping her wrist, pulling her back towards the group at the bar. It currently felt like the only thing keeping her upright._

_She shook herself from her reverie, trying not to let the feelings of panic and failure engulf her. _

_This was, quite possibly, the worst thing that could have happened. She was not in any way ready to deal with this situation. She suddenly remembered Julia's mocking advice._

'_If all else fails, just get shit-faced, and you won't have to face it.'_

_Never were such words so appealing. She looked back at the lads, hearing her name as they tried to establish what she was drinking. _

"_Vodka please. Double", she responded quietly, as she accepted the additional shot of tequila handed to her by Mansfield and threw it down her throat, gasping as she felt the liquid burn._

…

Events were now starting to fall into place in her confused brain. She had started knocking back the drinks as fast as she could, completely unable to deal with his presence in the pub.

_What had happened after that though?_ She racked her brain for any form of clue.

She would have to get herself out of this bed. She could still check out of the hotel room and get out of here before anyone even caught up with her. She couldn't even remember arriving at the hotel, never mind getting to bed. There were still so many blanks in her memory of the previous night.

Suddenly, she winced as she felt her head pound again, gasping as another memory invaded her brain.

_Oh god._

She was suddenly filled with equal amounts of horror, and then involuntary pleasure, as she remembered exactly how she had gotten into this room.

She dared herself to look under the covers at precisely the same time as she registered the fact that she wasn't wearing anything. Nothing at all.

She wasn't in _her_ room. She hadn't even checked into the hotel. Clothes were scattered around the place haphazardly. And not just hers.

_Oh fuck! Fucking fuck!_

She wasn't alone.

The mattress sank down beside her as he moved closer in his sleep to bring her towards him, strong arms slotting around her waist as he possessively pulled her close to his body. She could feel the low rumble of his breathing as he slept. She didn't have to turn around. She knew without a single shadow of any doubt that it was Charles. She could feel his unmistakable presence, she could smell his distinctive scent, still exactly the same all of these years later. She had committed the sensation of what it felt like to share a bed with him to memory almost exactly four years ago.

She battled with herself for what felt like an hour, but realistically what was more like thirty seconds before she could even think about building up the courage to turn to look at his face. His naked body was now pressed completely against hers, face buried in her hair, arms tightened around her, both fitting together perfectly. She was more than aware that the second she turned around, she was going to have to deal with the realities of this situation. So she lay perfectly still for a while longer, enjoying the feeling, denial already beginning to rip through her brain. She pretended for just a minute that it was all ok, _that she could handle it_, before she allowed reality to intervene.

The flashbacks were coming thick and fast now, tormenting her with wild abandon. Memories of them falling into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them, kissing frantically, clothes being pulled off and thrown from their bodies. She felt her entire body flush with heat as she suddenly recalled herself writhing on top of him, screaming with a release that had been begging to be let out for four long years.

The memory, combined with the stimulation she still felt wrapped in his embrace was suddenly too much. Another flashback pooled in her mind; him on top of her this time, later in the night, holding her long hair back from her face tenderly, meeting her gaze as they moved together on the bed. It felt perfect at the time. She remembered crying in his arms after they finished, feeling satisfied for the first time in years.

It felt so right to be wrapped in his arms.

But it was completely wrong, and she valiantly reminded herself of all the reasons why it was wrong.

_It would never work_. They had already shown that all they were good at was hurting each other. All she would do is hurt him again in the long run. She would never be good enough for him; they came from different worlds.

_This was an absolute disaster_. Only she could have managed to fuck up this badly.

She could feel the panic rise in her throat yet again, and she tried so hard to swallow it whole, to be brave. She could barely breathe; the tiny bubbles of fear combining to create one large one that she wished she could hold onto and disappear into the sky; far, far, away from this situation. This was why she had stayed away for so long, she couldn't trust herself in his presence.

She was going to have to get out of here before he woke up. She couldn't bear to see any regret in his eyes from what had happened between them. More importantly, if she allowed herself to look into his eyes one more time, she might not have the strength to go.

She had to do what was best for both of them, and run, yet again.

:::::::::

She prepared herself to creep out of the room, having managed to locate all of her clothes amongst the mess. She was aware though, that she had to have one last look at him before she finally walked out. Four years ago, her enduring memory of the last time she saw him had been full of bitterness, recrimination and tears. She wanted something to hold on to this time. S_he needed it. _

She sat on the end of the bed, wiping fat tears from her eyes as she watched him sleep. _Just for a second. _His long limbs were sprawled out over the bed, and he slumbered peacefully. She tried so hard to take a mental picture of the image, and lock it away tightly in her brain, where it could never be stolen from her. A lone curl had fallen over his forehead, and she dared herself to brush it back, running a hand through his thick hair. She panicked when he stirred slightly at the movement.

_This was it. She had to go._

She pulled the door closed tightly and quietly behind her, careful not to make a noise. She had sworn to herself while getting hurriedly dressed that she would absolutely not lose it here. She had to focus on what was for the best, and that involved getting out of Newport, and back to Canada, to hide from it all again, as quickly as possible. If she had to break down, she would do it there. Canada was her sanctuary, the place where she could hide from all of her previous mistakes. She had to get back.

The first problem with that scenario was that she had no idea where her bag, containing her purse, passport, and other belongings were. She only had her phone, and grabbed it from her jeans pocket.

_22 missed calls._

She dialled the only number she could in the circumstances; the one which had evidently been trying to locate her all night. It only rang once before it was answered with annoyance.

"Where the fuck are you? I've been lookin' everywhere."

The harsh voice made her already painful head pound even more. She whispered down the phone as she moved away from the room, "I'm in the hotel. What room are you in?"

"226. I've got your stuff here."

"Thank god for that. I need to get out of here, _now, _Brains." She could feel the panic beginning to set in again, and she forced herself to focus. Even she was beginning to lose patience with herself now. She had to pull it together.

She crept down the corridor, anxious not to make a noise and ignoring the spinning sensation in her head. She knocked lightly on his door, and he answered, still in his clothes from the night before, looking concerned as he rubbed the back of his head with his hand.

"Please tell me you haven't been where I think you've been?", he muttered as he moved to the side to let her in.

"Don't go there. I don't wanna talk about it. I can't talk about it. How did I get so pissed?"

"You were knocking them back like a woman possessed from the minute you clocked him. You're just lucky everyone else was hammered and didn't notice the two of you disappear from the pub at the same time."

She looked up at him, annoyed. "Why didn't you stop me?!"

Brains only sighed and looked at her, shaking his head in response. "I'm not your keeper Molly. I don't really wanna get involved with this any more than I am now. He might not be your boss any more, but he's still mine!"

She stopped in her tracks as a heavy knock came from the door. Her heart raced at the prospect of just who was behind the door, until she heard the broad Mancunian accent call out to Brains. She sighed and dropped down on the bed, her hangover really beginning to punish her now.

"Let me in, you cock", the voice called from the hallway.

"Brains sighed, muttering under his breath "why am I still mates with you load of tossers, when all I get is grief from all of you?" as he opened the door and Fingers bounded past him gleefully.

"Alright mate? Now you know I'm not one to tell tales out of school, but you will _never _guess what's…." he stalled as he noticed Molly sitting on the bed, and looked between her and Brains.

"Aye aye, what's going on 'ere then?" he continued to look between the pair.

"You two been playin' hide the sausage? Tell Uncle Fingers the truth." He stood next to the bed where Molly currently lay, trying again to stop the spinning.

"Very funny." Brains responded immediately. "This drunken idiot passed out on my floor last night, didn't you Molls?", he helpfully supplied a cover story, despite his growing annoyance with her, and this whole situation.

Her head was pounding with everything that had happened, and her affirmative nod was lost on Fingers as he lost interest and moved on to whatever he was evidently here to gossip about.

"You will never fucking guess what happened last night?" he looked between Molly and Brains, obviously desperate to share his story.

"What?" Brains indulged him, whilst Molly continued to try and resist the urge to vomit.

"I was in the room next door to the Bossman, and the lucky bastard's been shagging the brains out of someone all night!"

Molly, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 12 hours, felt her stomach sink, as Brains hid his disbelieving face in his hands. He had a horrible feeling this conversation wasn't going to end well. Infact, he would put money on the fact that Fingers was about to reveal the very thing he'd been trying, _but failing_, to tell Molly since he had found out about it. He couldn't stop Fingers from his rant without drawing attention to Molly though. _Fuck!_

He internally cursed all of the times he had a chance to tell her quietly, realising that she was going to kill him for not letting the cat out the bag. He had to remind himself that it wasn't his business. He had no part to play in this complete and utter mess.

It was a disaster waiting to happen, and he could see it coming a mile off, even before the fateful words left Fingers' mouth.

"Bet his missus would go mental if she found out he was banging someone else! She don't look like she'd take much shit off anybody."

He watched Molly's jaw drop.

_Yeah, complete and utter disaster just about covered it._

::::::::

_**AN2. This is Molly's perspective of what happened at the reunion. Next chapter will contain Charles' point of view, and will fill in more of the blanks of the events of that night. Hope that you enjoyed! **_

_**Song for this chapter is Gold Lion by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.**_


	5. Chapter 5: Happy Ending

**Chapter 5 - Happy Ending**

**24th May 2018 **

**Charles**

The heavy wooden door pounded under the weight of the knocks that it was currently fielding, increasing in both urgency and insistence.

"Brains, open this door. _Now_!"

Brains sighed yet again, wishing he had never bothered his arse getting involved in this sorry mess.

_He wasn't going away._

This was _exactly _why Brains steered clear of relationships. Too many complications. Why couldn't people just have a good time and walk away without feelings getting involved? Clearly not something that Molly and the Bossman could do.

He walked to the door, bracing himself for the awkward situation that he was no doubt about to face. How else could you describe dealing with your furious boss when you've just helped the love of his life run away. _Again._

Not that Brains had much choice in the matter. Molly had been so completely gobsmacked by the fact that her friend already knew about the Bossman's missus, that she didn't quite seem able to look him in the eye. He had tried to explain, but _this_ Molly was a completely different creature to the one he had expected. He was almost certain she would scream and shout, then give him a bollocking of the highest order.

Instead, silence was her only response. He could see her withdraw into a shell as he told her what he knew, which, admittedly, wasn't much. That, a couple of years ago, the boss had been off on compassionate leave while his son was ill in hospital. He didn't know how ill or what was wrong, just that he was in hospital for a long time. The boss didn't come back until the next year, and by that point he was back living with his wife and son. They often came with him to the family events that the regiment put on from time to time. His son looked about 10, maybe a bit older. His wife looked like a typical officer's wife; blonde and well kept. _That_ was the limit of his knowledge; it was all he could tell her. It seemed like that small amount of information was enough to knock her into stunned silence, and confirm her resolve to get out of there as soon as possible.

The door continued to shake under the pressure of the blows it was taking. He reached the wooden barrier, steeling himself as he opened it, ready for the bollocking he was no doubt about to receive. He didn't have to wait long for him to burst in. At least one of the pair was sticking to the script and showing their anger. He was seriously beginning to think Molly had been kidnapped by aliens and replaced by an emotionless robot, and he tried not to worry about the state she would be in by now.

"_Where_ is she?" he demanded as he looked past Brains and searched the room for any sign of her.

"She's not here boss, and.."

"Don't '_boss_' me Brains. I'm not your boss right now. If I was, I'd have you back at Barracks and up on a charge until you tell me where the hell she is."

"She's gone"

Charles snapped, his impatience becoming clear. "Yes, I can see that. What _you're_ going to tell me is _where_ she's gone" It wasn't a question, and Brains dropped his gaze to the floor, wishing it would swallow him up.

"I honestly don't know. I dropped her at the train station half an hour ago."

"You did _what_? Why the fuck did you do that? You should have come and got me!" He was pacing now, and Brains tried his utmost to word his next sentence carefully. This was now beyond awkward.

"She wouldn't let me. She'd just heard the lads talking about you and your wife." He winced as the words left his mouth, and tried valiantly to leave Fingers' name, and the finer details of the conversation out of it. He was well aware that he was probably risking his career talking to a Major like this, but he was having to bite his tongue to avoid going even further.

Charles looked at him in horror before sitting on the bed, head in his hands, trying to figure out what the hell to do now. He couldn't help but think back to the previous night.

_If he'd handled it differently would she still be here?_

...

_She had walked into the pub casually, as if the last few years hadn't happened. Her appearance hadn't changed one bit, and it left him completely and utterly blindsided by the onslaught of the feelings which attacked him. Long waves of dark hair still hung down past her shoulders, a cheeky grin plastered on her face. Her eyes sparkled with happiness as he watched her greet Brains with a hug, and then disappear under Kinders and Mansfield as they welcomed her._

_This was his moment to watch her, to drink her in before she clicked that he was here. Would she care? He wasn't sure what to expect. He couldn't tear his eyes away, trying to commit every second to his memory. He had already convinced himself despairingly in the past that he would never see Molly in the flesh again; that memories would be all he would have to console himself. _

_To see her once more was an unexpected gift he didn't think he would be given, and he lapped it up greedily, enjoying the sight of her happy grin as she spoke to Mansfield. But it didn't last long, and he took in the change in her demeanour as her face fell, realisation dawning on it. She visibly deflated in front of him. He knew without asking that she had become aware of his presence in the room. _

'_At least she cared', he tried to console himself bitterly. _

_A couple of minutes passed before she turned to face him completely; slowly and full of caution. His eyes locked with hers for the first time in four long years. He was well aware that he shouldn't be staring, but he was damned if he was going to stop. Her face had changed from unmitigated horror, to something that resembled complete uncertainty. He couldn't stand to see her so lost. So he smiled; a cautious, hesitant smile, something to let her know that all he wanted to do was to reach out to her._

_She didn't smile back. Her attention was drawn by Brains, gripping her by the wrist and pulling her back towards the bar. The moment between them was gone, distance creeping back in. He watched as she downed two drinks in quick succession, feeling guilty that his appearance had obviously been sprung on her. He had often wondered in the past if she would ever make an appearance at a reunion while he was there. He had his answer now; obviously she had come this year when he hadn't been planning to attend._

_At least twenty minutes passed before she and Brains stopped talking at the bar and wandered over to the table. He found himself wondering just how much his best Lance Corporal knew of what had happened between them. Brains was nobody's fool; he was one of the most impressively intuitive young soldiers Charles had ever been in charge of. Charles knew that he was still in touch with Molly, but whenever he tried to broach it in conversation, the young soldier would clam up and change the subject. _

_Charles had become aware through Brains, albeit indirectly, that Molly had been placed out at BATUS. He had overheard a conversation between him and Fingers on one of the rare days during Sam's illness that he had been present at Barracks. Brains had immediately shut the conversation down when he realised that they had been overheard, instead engaging Charles in small talk about how Sam was doing. At any other time, Charles may have made use of the information. He might have tried again to fight for her; to seek her out again. But it was too late. He had just been informed of Sam's need for a donor kidney. He had moved back into the family home with Rebecca. What right did he have to go digging up the past? So he buried the information in the back of his mind, and continued with life as it was._

_He watched as Brains led Molly to the table, carrying a tray of drinks in front of him. Kinders and Mansfield had already rejoined the table, and the remainder of the lads whooped as they saw Molly approach. Her cheeks flushed with a pink tinge as she sat down between Fingers and Baz, hugging both of them with an easy manner. There was no awkwardness; she was treated as just another member of the family. He noticed that Brains was still watching her with concern, and was thankful that she at least had somebody looking out for her. Her eyes were ever so slightly glazed, and he began to wonder just how many drinks she had necked in that twenty minute spell whilst standing at the bar. She was resolutely ignoring him, and sat at the opposite end of the table, deep in conversation with Fingers._

_The next couple of hours passed painfully slowly from his perspective. He could hear from the tidbits of conversation he had picked up on that she was still in Canada, but was currently on leave, and due to head back within the next few days. She didn't say much, letting the conversation flow around her, but he could tell she was drinking far too much. He watched as she downed yet another shot, and aimed a warning look at Brains, who shrugged his shoulders in response, obviously unwilling to intervene. _

_He tried his utmost to stop himself from caring too much; he was an absolute hypocrite for a start. Wasn't it the fact that he had gotten blind drunk and argued with her that had caused the tension between them four years ago to explode? He couldn't criticise her one bit for trying to escape through alcohol. He had tried, and found it was an easy option at the time, but one which only led to more recriminations and self-pity afterwards. In any case, it wasn't an option for him any more. Even if he wanted to, he could only drink in moderation these days given that he only had one kidney._

_He suddenly felt old and wearied, sat at this table in Newport, all these years later, having made such a mess of things four years ago. She still wouldn't look at him, and he realised with an element of despair, that nothing he could do was ever going to make things better. There was too much water under the bridge. _

_In any case, he had no right to expect anything from her. Tomorrow, he would have to travel back to Sam and Rebecca and continue to act the part of a devoted husband and father. He had no right to be here, in this pub, wishing that she would look at him for even a second._

_He excused himself from the table shortly after he realised his mistake in coming. As his chair scraped along the sticky wooden floor and he rose, he noticed her head spring up like a coil at the sound. She raised her eyes to meet his, and interrogated him with her gaze. The silent body language was clear enough to him; she wanted to know where he was going. He beckoned his head towards his destination; the door. She made no more move to communicate with him, looking down again suddenly. So he continued with his journey, explaining to the lads that he was going for a quick breath of air outside. He tried very hard to ignore the fact that he felt so utterly alive from just that moment of simple communication with her, no words needed._

_He felt the warm evening air greet him as soon as the door opened, savouring the cleansing feeling as he rested against the brick wall outside the pub, arms crossed against his chest. He closed his eyes as the back of his head met the concrete, and took the deep breath that he so badly needed. When he finally felt composed enough to go back inside, he opened his eyes as he moved away from the wall. His head jerked back in surprise at the proximity of the person stood in front of him, staring uncertainly, bottom lip trembling._

"_Molly?", he whispered, almost afraid to speak too loudly in the event that he frightened her off. He felt like an animal keeper trying to capture a frightened escapee, approaching softly. One wrong move and she would bolt._

"_Boss" she murmured, still maintaining eye contact with him. It was dark outside, with only one of the street lights giving any real illumination. The rest were flickering, bulbs ready to expire. He could still see the brightness of her eyes despite the dim lighting, and he wondered how he could have lived for years without seeing it._

"_I'm not your boss any more, Molly. Haven't been for a long time." He spoke softly as he watched her ruefully, frightened to say any more, holding his breath for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly, at a loss for what to do now. He had pictured this moment in his mind on so many occasions that he really should have more of an idea of what to say to her. Instead, he watched her, taking in everything about the woman that he missed so very much._

_An air of confidence suddenly seemed to be instilled in her, probably from the alcohol coursing through her veins. She had a glimmer in her eye which reminded him very much of the old Molly; always ready with a comeback and a sharp joke. She had the ability to deflate the most superior of men with her jabs. It was one of the many things that he loved about her._

_She wasn't saying anything more to him, and he wondered what on earth he was going to do to break the tension between them. It was thick, and needed the sharpest of knives to slice through it. He realised he was in trouble when he looked at her again, meeting her gaze. She was looking up at him with what he knew was undisguised lust in her features, biting her lip dangerously. She looked so incredibly alluring right now that he almost didn't trust himself to do the right thing. Unfortunately, he also recognised that the sudden onset of her desire was probably down to the alcohol rather than anything else. _

_He dared to place a steadying hand on her shoulder, wishing that he hadn't as soon as he touched her. She let out a low moan as soon as his hand touched her, and moved closer to him, so that their bodies moulded together. There was no embarrassment, just a continued look of passion emanating from her. He faced a deep internal struggle as he watched her, trying his utmost to remind himself that he had absolutely no right to touch her. He had ruined things between them in the past. Not to mention that he was supposed to be trying. He was meant to be doing things properly; dedicating himself to Sam, and to being a family with his son and Rebecca._

_He sighed, trying to voice that issue, and failing. "Molly. We should talk-" he attempted to address the topic, before he felt her fingers venture to his lips, shushing him._

"_I don't wanna talk" she murmured, trailing her fingers across his mouth, looking up at him with such need in her eyes that it almost choked him. How the fuck had this happened? One minute she couldn't look at him, and the next she had been filled with the confidence to initiate this? _

_He was trying his hardest to maintain some level of confidence that he was doing the right thing, when he was suddenly filled with the inextricable fear that this could be the last time he ever saw her again. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn't be doing it. But he told himself it was ok to carry on regardless._

"_I know", he murmured. "But, we should talk." He had a valiant last attempt to reason with her, repeating his assertion. She was still making a delicate trail across his lips with her fingers, and he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of it._

_She looked up at him from underneath her long eyelashes, an expression of sheer innocence and uncertainty on her face as she took in his struggle._

"_Don't you want me?" she whispered hesitantly._

_He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. How could he explain to her that it was precisely the opposite problem that he had? He wanted every single inch of her that she could possibly give to him. The part of him which still had some sort of hope that he could turn things around; that same part that he was sure had shrivelled up and died during the last four years, was screaming at him to reassure her, to take her in his arms and show her just how much he had missed her, and how much he wanted her._

_But reason was still overriding that part. It would be absolutely wrong of him to do this. He was sober, she clearly wasn't. He was living with his ex-wife and son, for god's sake. There was no way he could take this any further, no matter how much he was desperate to capitulate._

_She saw the struggle in his eyes, and self consciousness began to register in her features. She had misinterpreted his hesitation. Her embarrassment soon moved to downright mortification as she retrieved her hands from his face, refusing to look at him as she pulled away._

"_I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come out here. I should have known-" she trailed off as she turned away from him, tears now trailing down her cheeks "-what a fucking idiot, Molly" she muttered, berating herself as she began to move away._

_Suddenly, he panicked, the memory of her turning her back and walking away four years ago replaying in his mind. He couldn't watch her walk away again. He knew he wouldn't make it this time. He had barely made it through the last four years; surviving rather than living. She began to pick up her pace as she ran down the street, obviously heading back to the hotel. He could hear her choked sobs as she hurried away from him._

_He had to make the decision. He didn't have time to waste rolling through the options, the sensible voice in his head now overridden by the total fear of watching her leave again._

"_Fuck it" he uttered as he broke out into a sprint and ran after her. He had lost sight of her as she ran, and he hoped with all of his being that she had gone back to the hotel. He couldn't go through this again, trawling through the streets of Newport trying to find her._

_It didn't take long, and he caught sight of her tiny figure, still moving as quickly as she could. He kept up his pace, following her as she ran in the front door of the hotel. He was no longer capable of listening to the reasonable part of his brain. _

_He knew that if he did this, things wouldn't be the same again. _

_But he did it anyway. _

_He didn't want things to be the same if it meant being without her._

…

Which was how he ended up here, sinking into the bed in Brains' room, and trying desperately to keep it together. This wasn't the time to lose it, he needed to work out how to fix this. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he looked up at the younger man.

"Give me your phone."

"I don't think that's a good idea boss..." Brains stammered, seriously doubting the wisdom of this move. If Molly wasn't already going to kill him, this would surely seal the deal.

He was met with a look of utter authority from Charles. "I don't really care Brains. Give me your phone."

Charles took the mobile from the outstretched hand in front of him, and found her name in the list of contacts. _This was his only chance. _

He pressed the call button and it rang once, twice, three times. He was beginning to lose hope that she would pick up, when suddenly his prayers were answered.

"What is it?", she mumbled down the phone, obviously crying but trying to avoid showing it.

"It's me", were the only words he could manage in the circumstances. The silence between them crackled as he heard her take a deep breath down the phone.

"Molly. I need to explain to you what's going on..." He started to speak, but she cut him off before he had a chance to finish the sentence.

"There's no need to explain. I did tell you last night that I didn't wanna talk. Only got myself to blame I suppose." She half muttered under her breath.

"It's not what you think."

"It's exactly what I think. It's exactly what it always has been. You don't know me, and I don't know you. It's the same argument we had four years ago." She sounded resolute on the matter.

"I do know you, Molly." He knew he was losing her, and tried to bring her back to something, anything, that would pull her back from the brink. "You're the tip of the iceberg, remember?" He managed to choke back the sob that the memory of that conversation brought back.

She let out a small, tear stricken gasp at the memory, before she pulled back, readying herself to say goodbye for the last time.

"Say hi to Sam for me. I hope he's alright now"

He picked up on the steel in her voice, and knew that she was lost to him.

"Molly…" he began to try again, but she cut him off with a devastating word.

"Goodbye."

The phone clicked off, before she switched it off for good.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_**AN. I'm very cruel, I know...Poor CJ. Poor Molly. Even I feel gutted for them, and I made it happen! Just remember that every chapter is a step closer to the end ;-) **_

_**Next chapter, we will catch up with Molly to see how she is coping with the aftermath of events in Newport. **_

_**Thanks so much for the lovely comments on the story so far, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy.**_

_**Song for this chapter was Mika - Happy Ending.**_


	6. Chapter 6: Somewhere, a Clock is Ticking

**Chapter 6 - Somewhere, a Clock is Ticking**

**Molly**

**22nd June 2018**

It was the ringing of the landline phone in the flat that tore Julia Maguire from a fitful sleep. The thing never usually bloody rang; it was only ever when that pain in the arse scouser was trying to track Molly down that it went off. Her wearied legs covered the length of the room slowly, weighed down by her low energy levels. A cold sheen of sweat covered her body.

She was a doctor. _She didn't do ill_. Unfortunately, somebody needed to remind her sick body of that fact. She had been suffering from the flu for the last two days; an outbreak of it rife at the hospital, accompanied by the arrival of vast numbers of soldiers at the facility with their families in tow. Half of the medical staff were out of commission, others were holding the fort at the hospital, trying to keep things going.

She finally reached the phone, ready to curse whatever unlucky soul had dared to call and rip her from her bed.

"What?" she demanded roughly into the receiver, her hoarse voice scratching, making her usually playful Irish lilt sound like a harsh bark.

"Oh _good_, it's Miss Sweetness and Light. _So glad_ to get the chance to speak to you again", the voice added sarcastically. "Is Molly there?"

She sighed, too tired to even bother with a cutting response. "You're lucky I'm out of sorts, or I'd be handing you a verbal rod to stick up your arse."

"Steady love, we've never even met. I like to get to know a girl before I let her stick things up me arse."

"I'm seriously not in the mood for this" she responded between coughs and splutters. "No, Molly's not here. And even if she was, I don't think she wants to speak to you, pal. For someone called Brains, you don't seem to have much of them."

"It's Sean to you sweetheart. And trust me, she wants to speak to me about what I'm phoning about."

"Well I sure as hell don't, so can I go?"

"No - listen. Julie? No - Julia, isn't it? This is important."

"Mmhm. If you say so."

"I'm serious. Can you tell her she _needs_ to call me. I _really _need to speak to her, and her mobile's been off for weeks. I need to tell her about something important."

"Whatever. I'll tell her." She hung up the phone and wandered back to bed, feeling worse by the second, until she finally dropped down on the bed, savouring the chance to get back to sleep, and forgetting all about the message as she drifted off.

:::::::::

**26th June 2018**

Molly sat with her head resting against the glass of the large window pane at the reception area of the hospital, an uneaten sandwich cast aside on the metal table to her left. The cool glass against her forehead was a welcome balm against her hot, clammy skin. She was completely and utterly exhausted, unable to even consider moving from her position. It had been the day from hell. Not that many of them were great at the moment, but this one particularly stood out in its levels of pain. She had been working pretty much non-stop for a fortnight, covering for colleagues who had been floored by the rampant flu bug ripping through the hospital at the moment.

_She felt like shit. _She had worked twelve hour shifts every day for the last two weeks solid. Constantly on the move, never standing still for a moment. Whenever the tasks began to dry up, and she found her thoughts catching up with her, she would volunteer for more. Anything to fill up the time, and stop her mind from tormenting her with things that she really didn't want to think about.

At the end of every shift, she would return to the flat, utterly exhausted from the constant activities of that day. It was the only thing that guaranteed she would fall asleep. She was so exhausted that she would pass out on her pillow in a restless slumber for at least a few hours. Sometimes even that wouldn't work, and she would still lie in bed, tormented by thoughts of him, regrets about what had happened, and how badly she had messed up. She didn't _want_ to think about it. She didn't _want_ to do anything other than go to work. Even eating was a chore at this point in time. She knew that she was withdrawing into a shell, and that it was ten times worse than the state she had gotten herself into the last time things had gone so wrong between them. _But this time was so much worse. _She was a wreck.

_But what could she do? _There was no changing what had happened. She would just have to carry on with life as it was, and hope that the pain dulled to an ache eventually, rather than the searing, raw wound that she currently felt inside of her.

She still couldn't quite believe how much it compounded her pain to know that he was back with Rebecca. She had put her life on hold for years, unable to move forward from the pain of what had happened between them. All of that time, he had been back together with his wife, obviously able to cast aside what had happened. Unlike her.

Unfortunately for her, she could now remember everything that happened on that night, in glorious, technicolour detail. She had practically begged him to sleep with her, and her entire body cringed with shame at the thought of it. He had been cautious, reluctant to do anything at first, and she recalled practically throwing herself at him, telling him she wanted him; no, that she _needed_ him. It physically hurt her to remember it.

He must have taken pity on her, the poor cow who obviously couldn't move on like he had. What she couldn't understand was why he had phoned her the next morning using Brains' phone, after she had run. Did he want to make sure that she wouldn't tell anyone what had happened? He said he needed to explain. He probably just wanted to fill her head with the usual crap that married men spout when they cheat on their wife; that he wasn't getting any at home, that he was in an unhappy marriage. Because that was what all married men said when they cheated, wasn't it? She ignored the voice of reason in her head that countered that he wasn't like that; that he was a good man.

She couldn't listen to that voice because she was already in enough pain. Knowing that he was a good man, and reinforcing that in her brain wouldn't assist in numbing the pain. So she worked constantly, always trying to push back the gnawing hurt which rumbled in her stomach. As well as the other truly horrific thought which was now tormenting her.

_She definitely would not think about that_. She wasn't going there.

"You look like shit." Julia's voice emerged as she sat down beside her, dropping down into the plastic chair with a sigh. "Aren't you eating that?" she enquired as she picked up the sandwich sitting beside Molly and began to eat a section of it.

"No. I'm ill." she explained, eyes still closed as she continued to rest her weary head on the glass.

"I'm amazed you're actually sitting still for long enough for me to have more than a one sentence conversation with you."

"Well I'm too knackered to move right now. And _somebody's_ passed their germs on to me, which is why I feel and look like shit."

"Sorry. Occupational hazard I guess." Julia leaned back against the chair, still picking at the sandwich. "You ready to talk about it yet?" she enquired.

"About what?"

"About whatever's had you in this state since you got back here from leave. Or _whoever_. It's been more than a month since you got back, and you still haven't said a word about what went on."

"I'm not in a state Jules. And nothing went on."

Julia weighed up her next sentence carefully, watching for the response which would confirm whether she truly was ok or not.

"You had a phonecall in the flat a few days ago. I was out of it with the flu, and forgot to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" Molly tried her best to look disinterested as she peered out the glass at the view outside the hospital.

"Yeah. Your pal Brains." She watched her flatmate pale even more than she was, peering even harder out of the glass, before she continued. "-says he needs to talk to you about something important."

She mumbled a response under her breath. "I don't really wanna talk to him right now."

"Yeah, I guessed that." Julia watched her as she closed her eyes again, head back to resting on the window. She looked lost. Julia didn't really _do_ heavy conversations, but she liked Molly, and over the couple of years they had spent flat sharing, she had seen moments, in amongst the fun, of just what an unhappy soul she was deep inside. They could be enjoying themselves and having a laugh one minute, but it was as if the smallest thing could trigger a memory that sent her into a contemplative moment. It was a trait she recognised from herself, but she tried not to think too deeply about that, concentrating on her friend instead.

Molly finally lifted her head from the window, and noticed Julia staring at her with concern in her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing. You should go home if you're sick. God knows, you've covered enough hours in the last fortnight to justify a few days off."

"I'll be fine."

Julia had more than an inkling that she wouldn't be fine. But she left it alone.

_For now._

:::::::::

It was later that evening that she waited impatiently outside of the small bathroom in the flat, trying to decide whether or not she would force Molly to discuss whatever it was that was clearly plaguing her.

"Are you coming out of there or not?" She hollered the query from outside the door, hovering as she waited for a response from her flatmate.

"Jules, I'm fine. I ain't got the razor blades out yet, don't worry", she attempted to joke as she choked out a response from inside the bathroom.

She had been in the loo for ages, but Julia decided not to carry on bothering her. She _was_ coming down with that shitty flu. If she was still in there in ten minutes she would try again.

Meanwhile, Molly sat inside the small room, back pressed against the column of the bathroom sink. Her legs were drawn up close to her chest, chin resting on her knees. If she could only find the strength to lie down, she would be curled into a foetal position.

Her body was slowly becoming more numb and uncomfortable the longer she sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. But she stayed where she was, because she was in the perfect position. Her place on the floor meant that she couldn't see the sink. Even if she strained, and tried to stretch to see, she wouldn't be able to. And she definitely didn't want to see what was on top of the stark white porcelain sink.

Instead, she focused on the parts of the room that weren't spinning. The ones that were still normal. The shower, which was adorned with hers and Julia's bath products, shampoos and body washes sitting near to the screen. Her towel was still on the hook. It was completely as she would expect. Her makeup bag sat on the ledge on the opposite wall, a large mirror on the wall above it. There was still a stack of magazines sitting on the counter. All so normal. No different from usual.

So she wouldn't bother standing to look at the sink. _There was no point in that._ Because she had a sneaking suspicion that once she did, things wouldn't be so normal any more. Things would be very far from normal. She comforted herself though, with a reminder that a suspicion was a million miles away from a glaring reality. For as long as something was just a suspicion, it wasn't real. _And this couldn't possibly be real. _Even she couldn't be this unlucky.

She was going to have to move. Because Julia was on the verge of coming back and battering the door down. And the last thing she needed at the moment was the door swinging open to reveal her current position on the floor, hiding pitifully on the floor from the contents of the sink.

So she rose to her feet eventually, on shaking legs, convincing herself that it would all be absolutely fine. She would stand up, and turn around, and it would be ok. She would breathe a sigh of relief and she would go back to bed. _It would all be fine. _

She then spent the next couple of minutes standing with her back to the sink, arms tightly crossed over her chest, comforting herself.

_She must look like an absolute maniac. _If Julia was to burst in on her now, she would have her certified. It would probably be for the best, since she had obviously completely lost it. She was crazy. Because only crazy people went out and bought three tests, peed on them and then proceeded to line them up on the bathroom sink before hiding from them. Only a crazy person would then ignore the white sticks for as long as possible, refusing to even look in their direction.

It was entirely possible that those sticks weren't even anything to worry about. For all she knew, she could swing around and be comforted by three little negative signs. Even one would be enough for her to feel ok. To let her carry on back to bed to recover from the flu. _Because thats what she had, the flu. _Just like Julia, and half the bloody hospital staff had been, she was suffering from the flu. It didn't matter that she was puking her guts up at random times of the day, or that she hadn't had a period for at least seven weeks and in any case, definitely not since she came back from Newport, five weeks ago. That was _totally_ irrelevant.

She would see the negative signs, breathe a huge sigh of relief, go back to bed, and put some crappy tv on. Maybe even read a trashy magazine. Because that's what people did when they had the flu. She grabbed onto that notion for dear life as she spun around, telling herself that it would all be ok. The contents of that sink were absolutely nothing to be frightened of.

_Only they were._

The contents of that sink contained something so utterly terrifying that she felt her heart skip more than a beat, as her eyes met the very thing that she couldn't handle. The perfectly aligned sticks propped on top of of it all said the exact same thing. She couldn't tear her eyes from the three, bright blue, perfectly matching plus symbols which adorned the window on each pregnancy test.

It looked like she had hit the jackpot on a slot machine.

If she hadn't been about to empty the contents of her stomach, she might have laughed at the irony of it.

:::::::::::::

**AN. Ooooops. Did I just leave it there?! Sorry! ;-)**

**Ok. I did it. I knocked Molly up. Well, CJ can take the credit for it, I **_**suppose**_**. The last scene of this chapter is pretty much the pivotal moment that I had in my head when I thought of this story, and so we have been building up to it for quite some time. I couldn't quite decide whether to take the story here or not, and wavered a little bit. I **_**almost**_ **didn't do it, but here we are!**

**I am absolutely blown away by the lovely comments that I've had from you all, it's a brilliant motivation to keep going with writing. As you may have noticed, it hasn't exactly been plain sailing up to this point, and there may just be some more slightly stormy waters ahead! Just keep your eyes on the prize...they will find their way in the end! **

**Would anybody like to know what CJ has been up to in the meantime? Next chapter will tell us...**

**Song for this chapter was Somewhere, a Clock is Ticking by Snow Patrol**


	7. Chapter 7: Pompeii

**Chapter 7 - Pompeii**

**20th June 2018**

**Charles**

Charles tapped his desk impatiently with the silver pen in his hand. He turned the object over and over, threading it through his fingers, trying to expend some nervous energy as he waited for the visit of Lieutenant-Colonel Jones. The man was an unpredictable force, with a will of iron. Charles wasn't particularly used to feeling intimidated, especially since his promotion to Major. However, Jones was one of few men who could make him feel that way when he got going.

He didn't have to wait long for the older man to turn up in his office. Charles rose to his feet, ready to welcome him into a chair, when he was stopped in his tracks.

"No need, Major. I'll make this quick."

"Sir."

He had been taken by surprise this morning when he was informed that Jones would be making an unscheduled trip. He wasn't meant to be at Barracks today, and he had known as soon as he was called to attend this meeting, that something was afoot. Just what that was, he had no idea. He briefly hoped that it was some sort of deployment to somewhere hideous that would distract him from the sorry mess his life had descended into.

"I'll be brief. I know that I promised you we would try and limit your deployments while Sam was still in his recovery phase, but something's come up."

"Sir?"

"I've been asked to deploy a Company to BATUS to assist with a variety of Battle Group exercises. You're to lead 6 Company over there. It's looking like a 4-6 month deployment."

"BATUS?" He swore that his heart stood stock still in his chest when he heard the word. He had barely taken in any of the other details beyond the mention of the one place he had been thinking of constantly for the last month.

"Yes Charles. _Canada?_" Jones looked at him like he had lost the plot. "I know it's not ideal for you personally, but I was hoping you would be able to take it on. And by _hoping_, please let me make it clear that I mean _expecting_." He left Charles in absolutely no doubt as to what was required of him.

"Of course Sir." he looked at his feet, trying very hard to stay emotionless during the course of this conversation. "When are we scheduled to deploy?"

"I've managed to push it back until mid-July, but I thought it appropriate to give you as much notice as possible given your personal circumstances. I presumed you would need time to sort Rebecca and Sam out. I've spoken with my counterpart out there, and they are aware of the fact that you'll be bringing out a young dependant with a medical condition. They have an excellent hospital on base. We can make arrangements for Sam to be accommodated out there."

_Oh fuck._ _This couldn't be happening_. "Thank you for giving it such consideration Sir, but I wouldn't expect that Sam and Rebecca would be joining me." He was on the back foot with this, knowing that he couldn't possibly, under any circumstances take Rebecca out to Canada with him.

"Of course they will Charles. This isn't a hostile situation, you are being placed on British Army property. Spouses and dependants come as part of the package, and you've been through a hard enough time lately with Sam's illness. I wouldn't expect you to ship out there without them. I understand that your in-laws are out in Canada, is that correct?"

He had to think on his feet. "Yes Sir. But it would be too much of an upheaval in terms of Sam's medical care, and Rebecca's job. I think it's best to leave things as they stand" he lied, with a sense of shame about just how easily the lies were tripping from his tongue.

"I'll leave you to discuss it with Rebecca. But let me put it this way-", he stared into Charles' eyes as he spoke, again leaving him in absolutely no doubt as to what he meant. "-I think it would be a great shame to miss an opportunity to take the family out there Charles. It's a wonderful place."

"Understood Sir."

_Shit._ Too many issues were swimming around his brain. _How the fuck was he going to get out of this one?_

:::::::::::::::

**22nd June 2018**

Brains sat at a deserted table in the mess at Barracks, shovelling down the disgustingly mushy fish and chips that had been served up for lunch. He'd drowned the plate in salt and vinegar to try and disguise the rank rotten taste. He was already late to sit down and eat it, having tried to phone Molly, and receiving nothing but abuse from her pain in the arse flatmate for phoning. _What a bitch she was. _He doubted Molly would be getting the message he had left. Not that she would want to phone him back anyway. He hadn't heard from her at all since that morning he dropped her at the train station in Newport.

A tray slammed down at the table beside him, it's owner barreling over the bench to sit next to Brains. He was also shovelling food down at an alarming rate given the lateness of their lunch consumption. Their Captain would have a fit if they were late for the PT session scheduled in ten minutes time. They may be Lance Corporals now, but it wouldn't save them from a bollocking.

"You managed to speak to her yet?" enquired Fingers, between hurried mouthfuls.

"Nope. Mobile's still off, and I've just tried her flat but she wasn't there."

"She's gonna shit a brick when she finds out."

Brains sighed, staring at his plate. "You don't need to tell me that mate."

"So what's the plan then? You speak to her, tell her we're turning up on her doorstep, then sit back and watch the fireworks?"

"I dunno how to play it anymore. If she finds out we're comin' out there, I wouldn't put it past her to try and leave before we even arrive. But she'll kill me if we turn up there and she isn't expecting it."

"Seriously? She's that fucked up by whatever it is her and the Bossman have been up to? I know he's been wandering about the place like someone's fuckin' died, but is she as bad as him?"

"You saw her that morning in Newport."

"Fucking hell. I still can't believe the two of them have got into this mess. You'd be best staying well out of it mate. It's only gonna end up one way - you get bollocked by either Bossman or Dawsey. Or Bossman's missus. Or all of them." Fingers shuddered at the thought as he sympathised with his mate. "I dunno which of them options sounds worst, if I'm honest."

"I reckon I'll ask the boss for a deployment back to Syria next. Think I'd rather deal with those mental ISIS bastards again than this mess."

Fingers tried to console him from his quandary as he gobbled down the last of his lunch. "Never mind mate. Just think of all the top Canadian birds we're gonna pull out there. Eyes on the prize an' all that."

::::::::::

The door slammed behind Charles as he made his way into the house that night. It was in almost total darkness, and he winced at the noise the door made. He hoped that he had left it late enough to avoid Rebecca again. He didn't want to wake her if at all possible, instead preferring to put off the inevitable Canada conversation. He still hadn't mentioned it, two days after the discussion with Jones.

_What was he going to do?_ As soon as he heard the prospect of being placed out at BATUS, he felt hugely conflicted. Over the course of the month since that fateful night in Newport, he had been presented with a chance to play events over in his head again, to work through the chain of events that had ended so disastrously for him and Molly.

He realised now that Molly had made the decision to run before she even knew about Rebecca. The bitterness over that fact caught in his throat, tormenting him. They had spent the most beautiful night together, and she had obviously woken up and decided to run away from that regardless of what they meant to each other. _She regretted it. _His chest physically hurt at the prospect that she could have woken up that morning beside him and decided that it was for the best for her to leave. The time they had spent together had meant so much to him, that it was the decision to run that hurt him the most. He understood that she was entitled to go once she realised the truth about his circumstances. But the knowledge that she had made up her mind to do it anyway nearly finished him off.

He had an overwhelming memory of the evening in question, and he didn't try hard enough to bat it away in time, trying to hold back an involuntary shudder at the intensity of the memory in question.

_She was underneath him, thighs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back, both naked and tangled up in the white cotton sheet that had been spread over the bed. He looked into her eyes as he continued to make the long, deliberate strokes that pulled him away and then fitted them back together. She tried to close her eyes, hiding behind the strands of hair that decorated her face, but he took one hand and brushed away the thick hairs that framed her face tenderly with his hand so that she had nothing left to hide behind. He then moved the hand to her chin, imploring her to look up._

"_Look at me" he ordered as she opened her wide green eyes, and met his gaze. He felt like he could face anything at that particular moment in time. He felt whole. Her eyes began to glaze over as she became preoccupied by the sensations overtaking her body, although she didn't stop meeting his gaze. He made sure that he memorised every minute detail in front of him as she came completely undone underneath and around him. For the rest of his days, he would remember every single little detail of that particular moment. The noise that came from her wasn't loud, but its intensity was unmistakable. He could feel every single clench of her body around him. Her face was tightened with pleasure, and flushed with tiny little beads of perspiration as her body shook underneath him. Her hands still clutched the hairs at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. He could smell her exact scent, still the same all these years later. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose softly, as she continued to shudder. It was, quite literally, the most memorable moment of his life. Something undeniably special had taken place, and he knew that it would be a moment of huge significance to him, no matter what was to follow._

_Stop bloody torturing yourself Charles_, he told himself as he crept from the hall into the living room, preparing to make up the camp bed. He was always the first to wake in the house, a benefit of Army living, and so he knew he would be awake in time to make the camp bed back up and be able to pretend to Sam that he had been upstairs with Rebecca. Just the same as every other day.

'_Things can't go on like this'_ he heard the warning voice in his head remind him.

_He knew that. _

He jumped when he noticed the figure sitting on the couch in the living room. Shit, Rebecca was still up. She sat in her nightdress, legs crossed delicately against the sofa with a look he vaguely recognised. It was one which filled him with apprehension.

_He really didn't have the stomach for this conversation right now._

"You're home. Finally." She stated the obvious.

He could barely bring himself to look at her. "Sorry. I was needed at Barracks. Long day."

"I had a phonecall today." She watched him meaningfully, as if he was expected to know exactly what the call was about.

"Ok. I'm going to need a little bit more information if you want a response." He was tired, and quite frankly didn't want to be drawn into yet another argument.

"It was a very interesting call. Dr Richards' office have been informed of Sam's upcoming trip to Canada, and it seems they wanted our permission to fax his medical notes to the Army hospital there." Her face was a blank canvas, giving absolutely nothing away.

_Oh fucking hell._ "There's been a misunderstanding then."

"What? You mean you're not being deployed to Suffield?"

"Yes I am. But-"

She interrupted before he had a chance to comment further, jumping up from the couch, and clapping her hands together with delight. "Oh Charles. This is perfect. I've already spoken to mum and dad. They're thrilled about the prospect of us going out there for a few months. Obviously we'll still be a couple of hours drive from them, but it's wonderful. It's been so long since they've been able to spend any real time with Sam." She looked up at him, emotion filling her eyes. "Thank you."

"What?" He was genuinely stunned. _What the fuck was going on here? _

"I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind about us. That it wouldn't work, and that we would have to put Sam through another terrible ordeal. It would have been the last thing he needed. But this. It's a chance for a _fresh start _for the three of us. It's exactly what he needs. I'm sorry that I've been such a complete bitch for the last few months. It's just been so difficult trying to adjust to everything. But it's behind us now. This is our opportunity to move on."

"Rebecca. This isn't-"

"Charles, don't. I know you're not happy. Neither am I. But this is a chance to make it work. Sam is beyond excited about it, he's desperate to see mum and dad, and he's so looking forward to the trip."

"You've told Sam? Before we even had a chance to discuss it?"

"Yes! I was excited. And he's excited too."

"Jesus Christ" he muttered under his breath. He thought things had already reached a low point. He couldn't face seeing Molly again, not knowing that she had given up on him, and on them. And, even if he could, there was absolutely no way he could bring Sam and Rebecca along. But once again, he became a participant in his own life, rather than the leader he had once been. It had always been the case since the day he met Molly. He was no longer in control.

Lady Luck had clearly fucked right off, to somewhere that he was never going to find her.

::::::::::

**AN. So, Charles is off to Canada, together with his men (and his family!). What an absolute mess! He still can't get Molly out of his head, but what is he going to find when he gets out there? Will he get his head out of his arse and realise that Molly loves him as much as he loves her?! **

**I really hope that those of you who are reading are enjoying this, and thank you so much to those of you who have taken the time to comment, it's much appreciated, particularly with so many brilliant ff's on the go at the minute. Thanks!**

**PS - my army knowledge is diddly squat beyond google searches for overall background, so sorry if any of the above doesn't ring very true to those reading with a military background. Lets just call it artistic licence ;-)**

**Song for this chapter was Pompeii, by Bastille.**


	8. Ch 8: Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart

**Chapter 8 - Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart**

**19th July 2018**

**Molly**

Molly lay in bed, cocooned and wrapped in the warm duvet as she tried her hardest to block out her surroundings. The weather outside matched her current temperament. The mild summer weather had disappeared, and she could hear the wind howling as rain lashed against the window. It was 6am, and her alarm was singing with its usual buzzing insistence that she should get up. Only she couldn't. She couldn't face yet another day where she forced herself to go through the motions, blocking out everything that was going on inside of her.

She had seen those three positive tests over three weeks ago. _Three whole weeks._ It was amazing how the human brain had a capacity to take in the most terrifying of sights and yet shield the viewer from the harsh realities that should follow. She knew what she should have done at the precise moment in time that she saw those tests. She knew what was for the best. She had a decision to make. But she couldn't bring herself to deal with it. She was running out of time to decide what she was going to do. But her brain was refusing to process the information which constantly swam around her head. She was paralysed by indecision over everything. She managed to focus enough to go to work every day, and just about function in that capacity. But she rarely spoke beyond the words needed at work. She knew that Julia had almost given up on her. She had tried time and time again to pull together the words to explain how screwed she was. But she couldn't. So today, she would stay in bed. _What was the point in doing anything else?_

Only there was a problem with staying in bed right now, and it was one which wasn't going away. Lying down, with an utterly empty stomach was doing nothing to assist in stemming the crippling nausea that she currently felt. As she lay on the soft mattress, she could feel the room begin to spin around her with a terrifying intensity. Her stomach was doing backflips as she tried to focus on deep, cleansing breaths. _In and out. In and out. _She felt her entire stomach contract as she began to retch. Clearly, getting up was no longer an option. It had become a necessity.

She launched herself from the bed, trying desperately to hold on to the urge to vomit until she reached the safety of the bathroom. The sudden change from a lying to standing position worsened the nausea, and resulted in an intensifying of the spinning sensation. Thankfully the bathroom was across the hall from her room, and she stumbled as fast as her wobbling legs would take her towards the door, into the hall with her hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She could only ignore and run past the shell-shocked eyes of Julia, who had left her bedroom at exactly the same time, with the same destination in mind. Those eyes suddenly widened in recognition as she watched Molly disappear behind the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind her with her foot, as she unmistakably emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

Julia dared to open the door, and sighed knowingly at the sight which greeted her. Molly was collapsed in a heap over the toilet, head resting on the porcelain, obviously trying her hardest to compose herself. She felt an immediate rush of empathy for her friend, but didn't say a word. She moved to the sink, pulling a washcloth from the pile of towels stacked on the shelf above it. She dampened the washcloth under the cold tap, squeezing the excess water from it before she sat down on the tiles beside Molly. She pulled the long dark hair which fell around her face back to rest on her shoulders, smoothing it down soothingly, before bringing the cool washcloth towards her forehead.

Molly looked, up at her, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Julia could tell that she was on the very edge of her ability to cope.

"Thanks" she whispered, as she wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper.

Julia met her gaze and tried desperately to block out the bad memories that this situation was bringing back full force to her. She had to focus on Molly right now.

"How far along are you?" she asked as she continued to wipe Molly's head with the dampened cloth, feeling her sigh with comfort from the action.

Molly closed her eyes and rested her head back down. To speak about it was to admit that it was real. She almost couldn't let the words leave her mouth. But she knew that things couldn't carry on the way they were. She lifted her head, ignoring the nausea that the action presented, and looked Julia in the eye.

"About ten weeks, I think."

"The reunion?"

"Yeah. The reunion." Her chin began to tremble, as she felt the long suppressed emotions begin to surface.

"Oh, Molly-", she tried not to sound like she was giving her a lecture, "-why have you been hiding it for so long? If you'd told me, I could've helped you. Who else knows?"

"Nobody." The tears were now beginning to roll down her cheeks, and she rubbed them away with the pyjama sleeve that was pulled down over her hand before the tears could make a track down to her chin. "You're the first person I've told."

"Haven't you told the father?" Julia had a feeling she knew exactly who it was, but she played dumb, not wanting to assume anything without hearing it from Molly first.

Molly gasped as she held back a sob. _There was a baby. And a father._ But she couldn't think of it like that. She couldn't face up to it. This was the first time she'd cried. She hadn't shed one single tear up until now since she'd found out. The shock had been so much that all she could do was cope from day to day. Continue to breathe. Talking now to Julia about it, made it all real. It wasn't just a thought or a fear that existed in her head now. _It was a thing. _A thing that she had to deal with. What the hell was she going to do?

The tears couldn't be stalled any longer, and she gave up the fight against them. Julia pulled Molly towards her, wrapping a pair of comforting arms around her shaking body. She was overtaken by raw, angry sobs that wracked her entire body. All of the hurt and anger that she had been bottling up came roaring from inside of her, sitting curled up on that tiled bathroom floor. She couldn't hold back a thing anymore, and she surrendered herself to the despairing, involuntary cries that emerged from her body.

Hot, angry tears gushed from her eyes to accompany the weeping. All that Julia could do was hold her as tight as possible, smoothing her palm against Molly's long hair, as she rocked them back and forth on the floor, shushing and trying her hardest to give some comfort, much the same as she would do for a weeping child in pain.

::::::::

At least twenty minutes had passed by the time she had composed herself, and been taken back to bed by Julia. She emerged at the door of the bedroom with two steaming hot mugs in her hand, before making her way to Molly, who was propped up on the pillows trying to bat off the constant nausea tormenting her.

Julia sat gingerly on the bed beside her, trying not to spill the contents of the mugs.

"Here. Sweet tea. It'll work wonders. You need to eat as well. An empty stomach will just make the nausea worse." She pulled a packet of biscuits out from her pocket, stuffed in there from having her hands full with the mugs. "Eat one of these, it's got ginger in it."

Molly took the items from her, gripping the mug with a trembling hand.

"Yes Doctor" she mock saluted before hesitantly putting the biscuit in her mouth. She chewed on the dry surface carefully, trying to remember the last time she ate anything and kept it down.

"Ah, there she is. Was wondering where the Molly I used to live with had gone."

The air sat thick with unsaid words between them, neither wanting to be the one to break the silence. They sat side by side, both staring straight ahead, sipping their tea.

"I'm gonna make a wild guess here, but was your man, the Captain, at the reunion? I had assumed that's why you were in a state."

Molly sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head on the pillow and wishing they were talking about anything but this. "Yeah. Well, he ain't a Captain no more, but yeah."

"He left the Army?"

"Nah, he's a Major now apparently"

Julia whistled through her teeth. "Molly Dawes, you dirty girl. Bagged a Major. That's something like 50 points." she joked, trying to inject some humour into the moment.

"Don't, Jules" Molly began to tear up again. "I've made such a mess of things. I got rat-arsed cos I panicked that he was there. Just about jumped him outside the pub, and then ran away like a stupid little kid when he didn't wanna do anything. He followed me back to the hotel and it just all clicked into place. It was like the last four years hadn't happened. It was like nothing else I've ever experienced before." She looked up at Julia, who nodded her head, urging her silently to continue. "Then I woke up the next morning and realised what a fucking mess I'd made of it all. When I'd had a drink it felt like all the other stuff didn't matter, but in the morning it all came back. I should have thought about that before I let my hormones get in the way. I just missed him so much that I acted without thinking about it."

"Molly, sorry if I'm being thick here, and we'll avoid talking about the obvious elephant in the room, but aside from that what's the problem here? You had a night together, obviously one that you enjoyed. And trust me miss, we'll be covering the finer detail of that later, you don't get off that easily" she winked at her.

Molly looked her straight in the eye and voiced the words that had been plaguing her. "He's married".

If Julia was shocked she didn't show it, simply frowning in response. "Ah. Shit. That's a bit of a problem, I'll admit. Wait, wasn't he married before?"

"Yeah. They had split up when I first met him. They've got a little boy. Apparently they got over whatever the problem was, cos they're back together. I only realised the morning after."

Julia winced for her friend. "I'm so sorry Molly. What a complete bastard."

"Don't be. It's my own stupid fault. Molly Dawes fucks up yet again, no surprise there. In all honesty, even if he had told me that night, I still don't know if it would've stopped me. What a total slapper." She brought her hand up to bat away a tear before it had a chance to land.

"You're not a slapper. You just fell for the wrong guy. Happens to the best of us."

"Yeah but not only did I fall for him, I was stupid enough to get knocked up by him. What was I thinking, not using anything?"

"We all make mistakes Molls." Julia's eyes had darkened by now, from their usual blue to something Molly didn't even recognise. She watched as her roommate shook her head, almost imperceptibly, as if she was trying to rid herself of a thought, before she looked at her again.

"You'll need to get yourself checked out. Have you seen a doctor."

"No"

Now Julia _was_ shocked. "Why not? You can't stick your head in the sand any longer. That's not how pregnancy works I'm afraid. If you're as far on as you think you are, you need to get your head straight and decide what you're doing."

Her response was low and barely audible. "I'm scared Jules"

"I know. _God_ I know that Molly. But you can do this." She watched Molly shake her head, tears beginning to form. "Don't do that. Listen to me", she grabbed her wrist and looked her square in the eye.

The tears were now falling freely. "I can't. I ain't got nobody. If I tell them I'm pregnant they might send me home, and I can't go back. This is my home now."

"They might not send you home Molly, not if you tell them you want to stay. You're not in a combat role, you're doing the nursing training. They'd probably just put you on light duties till you had the baby."

"And then what?" She asked despairingly. "I ain't fit to raise a kid Jules, I'm barely even fit to take care of myself!"

Julia grabbed her hand, trying to bring some comfort. "Only you can decide this Molly. But if you're basing this decision on not being able to cope then don't. You'll cope. You'll find a way."

"How can you be so sure?" Molly sniffed as she tried to collect herself.

Julia looked away before she spoke, not wanting to meet Molly's eyes. "Because I did. And I was a hell of a lot younger and dafter than you, Molly Dawes."

"You what?" The revelation was enough to capture Molly's attention. This was something she had never known about her friend.

Julia took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation. "I was 15. Still at the catholic all-girls school back home. Met a boy that went to one of the nearby schools. He told me all the usual bullshit-" she waved her hand in the air and raised her eyebrows knowingly "-you know, that he loved me and he wanted to be with me. So I slept with him. I didn't have a clue what I was doing, but I wanted to do it. I wanted to please him. Didn't even realise I was pregnant till I was nearly 5 months gone, now _how's that_ for stupid?" Her gaze had darkened now. "I was terrified Molly. He dumped me for another girl as soon as I told him. What a catch eh?" Her voice was robotic and emotionless as she relayed the story, as if she was describing something that happened to somebody else.

Molly was still utterly shocked by the revelation. "Jules. My god. What did you do?"

Julia laughed at that, a sad chuckle. "Told my Mammy, eventually. She hit the roof. Sent me to my Auntie's till I had the baby. I was on my own Molls. I was fifteen and I was fucking terrified."

"What happened to the baby?"

The robotic voice was gone, and her throat crackled as she continued. Molly could tell she was trying not to cry. "I gave it up for adoption. It was for the best. I was only a kid myself, and it was very clear that I wasn't welcome back home. What else could I do?" She nodded as she spoke, as if she was still trying to justify the decision to herself.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me. I told you so you knew that I understand how you feel. But it's different for you. You're not a terrified teenage girl. You're an amazing woman, who's more than capable of handling this. You've got an MC for Christ's sake. And you've got me. And you know I'll go to bat for you Molls, no matter what you do."

Molly suddenly, for the first time in weeks, began to feel the clouds of despair inching open to let some light in ever so slightly. Julia was right. She had looked Badrai in the eyes and shot him. She had watched Smurf die in front of her and still found a way to cope. She had found a way to survive without Charles. Ok, it was lonely, and it paled in comparison to how she knew life _could_ feel. But she had coped. _And she would cope now_. _She would find a way. _Her mind went back to an image of 15 year old Julia, terrified, and handing her baby over.

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

She could see the tears pool in Julia's eyes for the first time, and almost regretted asking the question. She shook them away before answering.

"A girl. She'd be 15 now. Same age I was when I had her."

Molly had to ask. "D'you ever think about her, wonder about her?"

"Course I do - every day. I know I did the right thing though. I joined the Army, and it saved me. They put me through medical school, became my family. I know I did what was best for her, and best for me." She looked as if she sincerely meant it.

Molly suddenly felt a small sense of hope creep into her. Maybe she could handle this after all. Maybe she could cope on her own. She might not have Charles, but she would always have a little piece of him with her. She found the thought strangely comforting.

"Thank you. For telling me I mean."

The tears were gone, and Julia looked straight at her, her confidence restored. A switch had been flicked, and the usual Julia was back. "It's fine. Don't tell anyone I have a human side though. I wouldn't wanna have to kill a pregnant lady."

Molly giggled through her tears, despite herself. "I won't. Don't worry."

:::::::

Molly's stomach finally settled, the two women made their way to the hospital. The pounding rain had finally ceased, and they made the short drive from their flat in companionable silence. As they exited the car, the air felt fresh and new after the blankets of rain which had been falling, and Molly could feel a sense of calmness beginning to be restored.

Julia broke the silence with a small giggle. "Here's a story that'll restore your faith in men after your escapades."

"I doubt you could tell me anything that'd do that right now, mate."

"Oh this one's straight from the page of a glossy magazine, trust me. Would've told you about it last night, but you were still in the '_baby coma_' phase as I'll now refer to it."

Molly rolled her eyes. Normality had clearly begun to resume. "Go on then, try me"

"Right. Got a new admission last night. Most adorable little boy you've seen in your life, and you know me, I don't use the word adorable in any context. I swear to god, the kid blushes every time I open my mouth to speak to him. He is so fucking sweet."

"What's up with him? Medically I mean. He's obviously got a screw loose to have a little crush on you."

"I'll let you off with that one on account of your hormones." Julia narrowed her eyes before continuing. "He's diabetic. Type 1. Anyway, he was having a hypo, which we got under control fairly quickly. Only, I realise when I look at his records that this poor kid nearly died last year. Had to have a kidney transplant that saved him. He's only just arrived over here."

"Jesus. Poor kid."

"Poor kid indeed. But then, in walks the Dad. And I swear to god Molly, you've never seen anything like it in your life. He was in full gear, but he looked like he had walked off a catwalk in Milan somewhere. He is a complete honey. A 10, for sure."

"Sounds too good to be true." Molly giggled at the googly eyes Julia was making.

"Oh, it gets better. Obviously all the nurses are falling over themselves to help him, it's all "Major this and Major that". They've christened him Major Hottie."

"How original" muttered Molly, still wondering what the point was.

"Well, it turns out that _Major Hottie_ was the one to step in and save his son. Gave him his kidney. Looks, uniform and compassion, the perfect package. Couldn't make it up, I tell ya."

"God, that's pretty amazing. Think my old man would've tried to charge me for his kidney before he even thought about handing it over to me." She rolled her eyes at the thought.

They had reached the entrance of the hospital and Molly ventured in the door a couple of paces behind Julia, still giggling at the prospect of Dave Dawes selling body parts, when she heard it.

It was like an out of body experience. _She must be imagining things_. The voice that called out from behind her must belong to somebody else who had the exact same unmistakable timbre. _This couldn't possibly be happening. _The voice was aimed in Julia's direction, a good few paces ahead of her.

"Excuse me, Doctor Maguire?"

Julia spun around, still laughing as she heard her name being called, not yet registering that Molly had stopped in her tracks about ten paces in the opposite direction. She quickly realised who had called her and smiled warmly.

"Yes, Major James?" She had to bite her lip with laughter as she realised that she had almost called him by his new nickname.

For some reason Major James didn't look anything like as friendly as he did yesterday. He looked tortured infact, and she briefly panicked as she wondered what must have happened overnight with her patient. _Surely she would have been paged if something had gone wrong with him?_ But then, she realised that he was no longer looking at her. He was looking behind her, with an incredibly intense look on his face, his eyes swimming with pain. She turned her head over her shoulder to see what had caught his attention when she saw the back of Molly, frozen stock still, and steadfastly refusing to look in Julia's direction.

The first thing she heard was the pained tone that emerged from the Major's voice, as she tried to work out just what the fuck was going on.

"Molly?"

:::::::::::

**AN. I know. I know! I feel bad for leaving it there, I honestly do! But a lot has just happened, and we need to take a step back and revisit CJ to see how he arrived at the same moment that we've just seen from the perspective of Molly and Julia. Don't you want to know what he's been up to?! All will become clearer in the next chapter...**

**And THANK YOU for the lovely comments, you are all brilliant. I'll get the next one up as fast as RL will let me write it. I kind of want to see how this pans out too, but will unfortunately have to feed and clothe my kids and maybe even go to work at some point.. Hope you enjoyed this one in the meantime though!**

**Also wanted to leave a quick message for the reviewer "LB" (sorry, would have sent you a PM but you don't seem to have an account). I'm really glad you have enjoyed, despite the issues you pointed out re military accuracy. All I would repeat is that I make zero claims in that respect. There are some brilliant OG authors on here with a far better grip of military correctness and accuracy, and I could never hope or claim to be anywhere near that level of writing. I do this for fun, escapism, and because I have a story to tell. I really hope you can suspend your disbelief and read it in that spirit, and I'm genuinely sorry for any offence caused. I will probably continue to make some horrendous clangers, which you can hopefully let me away with ;-)**

**Oh, and the song was Sleeping With a Broken Heart, by Alicia Keys.**


	9. Go Your Own Way

**Chapter 9 - Go Your Own Way**

**18th July 2018**

**Charles**

It was a misty, damp early morning at Brize, as Charles watched the grey sky from the tarmac. The drizzle was landing on the grey surface, falling on the men who currently went about their business, preparing themselves to board the flight. His nerves were beginning to overtake him, and he tried instead to focus on the task in hand; overseeing the men as they travelled out to BATUS. A huge amount had happened in his life in the period since he had been informed of the deployment, and he reflected on the conversation which had triggered the changes.

* * *

_22nd June 2018 (cont)_

_He stared at Rebecca after her monologue on coming along to Canada with him, wondering how to get the message across. He was never going to be able to change his life until he accepted that he couldn't carry on in this ridiculous situation. It had started with the best of intentions on both his and Rebecca's part; to try and create a united front to reassure Sam. But how long were they really supposed to try? Until he was a teenager? Until he finished school? Until he left home? He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable backlash he was about to face._

"_Rebecca. Listen to me. This isn't a fresh start, or a chance to begin again. I'm going out there to work. I've already told the Lieutenant-Colonel that I have no intention of uprooting either you or Sam, and I meant it."_

_She stared at him carefully. "Charles, don't be ridiculous. We want to come."_

_He should have known that a direct approach would have been needed. Rebecca wasn't one to give anything up easily. "No. This is a non-starter. I'm not taking you with me."_

"_And Sam?"_

_He sighed. She definitely wasn't going to make this easy for him. "In an ideal world, I would have Sam with me all of the time, you know that. But I'm not moving him out halfway across the world to live for months when he's still recovering from what he's been through, Christ Rebecca, he's only just started back at school. What could possibly make you think that this is a good idea?"_

"_In an ideal world? So, in that 'ideal world', would you have me with you all of the time?"_

_She looked genuinely curious, and he realised that now he had started the difficult conversation, there was no way of pulling back. He would have to lay it all out in order to try and fix the absolute fuck up he had created here. It was a mess of his own making._

"_I think you know the answer to that. Are you really going to make me spell it out?"_

"_No Charles" she sighed, shaking her head. "Believe it or not, I'm not a glutton for punishment. I really thought you might have at least tried, but you're not interested. We were already limping along when you disappeared to Newport and then you came back completely distraught. It's just like I knew it would be, you've been utterly miserable since you went there."_

_The mention of that place got his back up. He could barely bring himself to think about it any more; Newport contained nothing but painful memories for him._

"_That has nothing to do with this conversation."_

"_It has everything to do with this conversation" she spat back, noting the look of despair that crossed his face as soon as she mentioned the place._

"_Rebecca, what exactly is it that you want from me? Do you want me to tell you that I love you? That in an ideal world I would be taking you out to bloody Canada? Is that what you want?"_

"_I want you to actually care about me. To look at me instead of past me for a change."_

_He had literally no idea what to say to her next. This was painful in the extreme. _

"_I'm here, aren't I?" he challenged quietly. What else could he do? He wasn't capable of giving her anything more than his presence. He cursed his own pitiful reasoning, and resolved to end this. Now. For both of their sakes._

_She carried on, not noticing the change in his stance, his posture suddenly improving as he gained the confidence to say what he needed to say. She was pained in her observation._

"_Yes, you're here in body, but you never really came back emotionally, did you? I know you're only here because of Sam, you make it painfully obvious often enough."_

_His resolve had finally arrived, and he was suddenly filled with clarity. _

"_You're right." She gasped with shock at him actually admitting it, and he looked directly as her. "I'm not going to lie any more. All I do is lie, I'm sick of it. I'm here because of Sam. We both know that. I'm not the only one guilty of it."_

"_Speak for yourself. I want to make this marriage work."_

_He paced now, rubbing his hand against the hair at the nape of his neck in sheer frustration. "Rebecca. Listen to yourself. There is no bloody marriage. We're divorced. We live in the same house with our son, and we barely tolerate each other. That is not a marriage, it's a life sentence!"_

_"That's not true! I love you Charles!"_

_"You don't love me any more than I love you." He hadn't wanted to bring it up given his own situation, but she was leaving him with no choice. "Do you really think you would be sneaking off to meet another man if you loved me?"_

_She looked at him, horrified, a red blush creeping from her neck upwards to spread across her cheeks. _

_"You know?" She whispered._

_"Of course I know. I'm not a complete idiot."_

_"Is that why you're doing this? Because don't." She shook her head vociferously, the tears now starting to make a track on her cheeks. She was desperate to explain. "The only reason I even went near Simon in the first place was because you refused to touch me. I was lonely and frustrated, and he made me feel like I was worth his time and attention."_

_He suddenly felt like a complete hypocrite. He had made her feel guilty for doing the same thing as he too had done. "You don't need to explain. I've known for a while. I was relieved. I wasn't jealous, or angry. I was relieved. And anyway, I have no right to judge."_

_She continued to sniff as the tears dried up. "What does that mean?"_

_He sighed. If he was going to start being honest then he had to apply that honesty to all aspects of this conversation. "I haven't been honest either. I have no right to expect you to live up to a standard that I don't meet."_

_She laughed sarcastically, as she realised exactly what he was referring to. "Oh good, are we referring to the third person in our marriage now? Will you actually break your silence on that now that you've humiliated me." Her anger was back, and he doubted the wisdom of even referencing the contentious topic of Molly. But he continued regardless. _

_"I'm not trying to humiliate you. I'm telling you not to feel guilty about wanting to be with somebody else. I can't expect that of you when I'm guilty of the same thing."_

_"And don't I know it. She's here every day, casting a shadow over us. 'The woman who saved your life'." She thrust her hands into the air in frustration. "She saved your life but she killed any chance we ever had of being happy stone dead in the water. You've never been able to let her go, and that's what finished us. Nothing else."_

_He shouldn't have raised the topic of Molly. He could feel anger start to stir inside of him at the way Rebecca was referring to her. "Don't reinvent history. You had walked out on me before I even met Molly. We were in the middle of the divorce before I even laid eyes on her."_

_"That may be so, but we could have had a chance to be happy this time around if you'd been even remotely willing to let go of her."_

_He was beyond frustrated now, and the simple fact that he had been forced to let go of Molly due to the mess they had made of it all, infuriated him. The only person he was angry with was himself, for ever letting things get this out of control. He still maintained enough self-control to wrap his next sentence in a furious low whisper, to try and stop himself shouting enough to wake Sam._

_"I've got no choice but to let her go. She doesn't want me!" He tried to ignore the pain in his chest that the statement inspired. "That doesn't change the fact that we need to end this. For everyone's sake. The atmosphere in this house is poisonous, and it's not going to help Sam anymore. We have to get a grip and stop trying to fix something that's beyond repair."_

_His words had finally registered with her and the tears had begun to flow again. She remained bitter, but he recognised the look of resigned acceptance on her face._

_"I know."_

* * *

Once she had finally admitted that she agreed with him on just how poisonous their relationship had become, the rest of the conversation became slightly more productive. It wasn't what he would call entirely amicable, but there was a recognition on both of their parts that they couldn't carry on the way things were currently going. They sat up for most of the night, discussing where they would go from here. Barriers were broken down, with both of them finally able to be honest with each other for the first time in years.

Rebecca came to the conclusion that she wanted to go out to Canada for a few weeks in any case. The prospect of seeing her parents had appealed to her greatly. They had travelled over to the UK for a while when Sam was sick, but it hadn't been for long enough, and she found herself in need of their support. They agreed that she and Sam would fly out to spend time with them as soon as possible. It would let Charles move his things out of the marital home and sort himself out before he despatched.

They came to an agreement that when Charles did arrive in Canada, in 3 weeks time, Rebecca would bring Sam to see him at BATUS before the pair returned back to the UK, leaving Charles behind. All aspects considered and discussed, they agreed that it was for the best.

Besides the obvious feeling of relief, Charles felt utter sadness at the way things had worked out. Rebecca may have been right; perhaps if he had been willing to reinvest himself fully in the relationship, then things may have worked. But the fact of the matter was that the whole situation had always felt like a betrayal of what he and Molly had shared. He knew that if the intervening years they had spent apart had involved Molly becoming involved in a relationship, never mind a marriage, he would have been devastated. He didn't even know if she was involved with anybody else, all he could do was hope to god that she wasn't.

The thought of Molly being somebody else's girlfriend, somebody else's wife, or god forbid, the mother of somebody else's children, filled him with the most innate sense of horror. He had absolutely no right to feel that way, and he knew it. But it didn't prevent the sense of despair that he felt at the thought of it.

He knew that, given how effectively he had managed to fuck things up between them, she wanted nothing more to do with him. She had walked out on him; she was effectively lost to him. He couldn't change that. But he could at least make it clear to her that she wasn't an affair; that their night together wasn't a meaningless bit on the side to him. It was everything. Maybe if he could make her understand that, then she may not hate him quite as much. He had no right to expect anything. But he knew all that he could do to ease his conscience was to try and right things as much as he could.

That began with going out to Canada as a single man. He had found a flat close to Barracks and arranged for his things to be moved from the family home. The flat was small but perfect; there was a room for him and Sam, plus a small spare room. It had taken a few weeks to get it all sorted out, and felt like a fairly futile exercise at times given that he was about to ship out for 6 months, but it was necessary in order to clear his head.

He could feel some control beginning to return to his life, together with a sense that maybe he could breathe again. He knew that he wouldn't feel as complete and whole as he had that night in Newport, but at least he wasn't living a lie any more. That had to mean something.

* * *

18th July 2018 (cont)

The journey to BATUS had been slow and painfully boring, but at least felt like progress. He was having to convince himself that there was very little chance of him simply running into Molly. The facility was vast, with thousands of personnel placed there. He knew that the chances of him seeing her without trying to were remote. But he also knew that he would be looking around every corner for her until he did eventually track her down.

They had finally arrived at the base by early evening after a long day of travel, when he received the fateful message. He rushed to the hospital as quickly as humanly possible, only to be confronted by a hysterical Rebecca. She had been travelling to the base with Sam to meet Charles, as planned, when he had been lethargic and reluctant to eat. Knowing how dangerous missing meals was for him with his illness, she had tried to force the issue, but his condition continued to worsen. He was on the verge of unconsciousness, and suffering from hypoglycaemia, also known as dangerously low blood sugar. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time Sam's reaction had been so extreme. Luckily help had been on hand when they arrived at the base, and Sam had been whipped into the hospital as quickly as possible for treatment.

As he entered the hospital room, following Rebecca, his relief when he first saw Sam sitting up in the bed was palpable. He was pale and listless, but his eyes sparkled with relief as soon as he saw his father enter.

"Dad!" he cried out with a croaky throat from his place on the bed, hospital gown wrapped around his small body.

Charles enveloped him in a hug as soon as he saw him, squeezing his small frame tightly and kissing the thick hair on top of his head. He looked up from the hug to notice a woman, who he assumed to be Sam's doctor, watching him curiously.

"Hello. I'm Doctor Maguire. I'm treating Sam."

"Charles James. Sam's father." he extended a hand to the woman. She was tall, probably not far off his height, and she met his gaze directly, shaking his hand firmly. She proceeded to rattle off the particular details of Sam's treatment from admission to the hospital, covering it all efficiently and professionally. It was all very thorough, but Charles had a horrible feeling during the entire discussion, of something not feeling quite right. It was a finely honed instinct of anticipation that had built up within him from his years on tour. Everything appeared completely normal, but _something _was off. _Something didn't feel quite right._ He wished he could put his finger on exactly what that thing was.

He tried to shake off the persistent niggle in his head; telling himself that he was just out of sorts after spending an entire day travelling, and then rushing straight to the hospital. _That was all it was. _The doctor excused herself fairly quickly after that point, but there was a seemingly endless trail of nurses visiting the room, leaving him with hardly any time alone with his son.

Eventually, the visitors tailed off, and he managed to convince Rebecca to stay in one of the relatives rooms overnight to try and get some sleep. A benefit of spending almost twelve years in the Army was an ability to fall asleep almost anywhere, and he would stay with Sam in the small room. He pulled an armchair quietly to Sam's bedside, anxious not to disturb his peaceful sleep, together with another chair to sit opposite it. As he sat back in the chair, bringing his ankles up to perch on its opposite number, he rested his head back and stared at the ceiling of the small room. One of the nurses had brought him a pillow and blanket, and he made use of both items, trying to push the ever present niggle in his brain that something wasn't quite right.

He managed to stay that way for much of the night, moving only when sunlight began to creep into the room. The military man inside of him forced him to prepare for the day ahead, rearranging the chairs in their correct position, and folding up the used blanket. For the first time since he had arrived at the hospital, he let a genuine grin pass his face as Sam woke up and stretched, a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. His face had regained some of its usual colour, and it was only when he noticed that fact, that Charles felt some of the tension knotting in his stomach release. Since Sam had fallen so ill, one of the major worries day to day was that his condition would relapse. From the information shared so far by the doctor, it seemed as though this was a stumbling block rather than a full-blown disaster. The way Sam's stomach was currently grumbling as he wolfed down his breakfast would seem to support that fact.

Reassured by the fact that Sam was awake and eating, he ventured down to the cafeteria near the front door of the hospital to wake himself with a coffee and something to eat. As he waited in line at the coffee cart, he spotted a flash of red hair enter the front door of the hospital, and recognised from the height of the woman that it was Sam's doctor. He had a couple of questions that he had forgotten to ask last night about Sam's treatment, and whether his son would be able to travel back to the UK with Rebecca as planned. He thought about waiting for his coffee regardless and finding her later, but again, _that feeling_ was present. Something wasn't quite right here.

He left the line of waiting customers, and made his way over to the doctor, trying for the life of him to remember her name. She was Irish; it was an Irish surname. _Maloney? Murphy? No, Maguire, that was it._

"Excuse me, Doctor Maguire?"

It happened at the exact same moment that he uttered the words. His attention was suddenly drawn to the figure which had been right beside the doctor, but who was now standing at least ten paces away from her. He hadn't looked at that figure until that precise moment, but it was now all he wanted to do. A warm roar of recognition flooded his senses as he drank her in. Her dark hair flowed down her back, falling around her shoulders. He could see the side of her face in profile, despite the fact that she wasn't meeting his gaze, looking at the floor instead.

Molly. _His Molly._

She had heard him. He knew it because she stood stock still, rooted to the ground, absolutely refusing to risk a glance in his direction. He vaguely registered the fact that Dr Maguire was standing in front of him, waiting for him to say something to her. But he couldn't. He couldn't quite force his brain to engage with anything beyond the fact that he had finally seen her again. His next words should have been an explanation to his son's doctor for his decidedly bizarre behaviour. _But he couldn't_. The words wouldn't leave his mouth. Instead, he heard the choked call come from his lips as he willed her to turn around and look at him.

"Molly?"

* * *

**AN. I know, it's the same cliffhanger as the last time, but we know so much more now! CJ and Rebecca have finally called time on their so-called relationship, and we have seen CJ start to make some progress in extracting his head from his arse! I know there wasn't much MD/CJ time here, but we are getting there, I promise. Next time, we will have some long overdue interaction between our two favourites...**

**Sorry this one has taken a while, but I had a bit of a block when pulling it all together. Hopefully the fact that it was difficult to write doesn't equate to difficult to read..**

**As ever, thank you so much for the lovely comments on the previous chapters. I will work on getting the next one up as soon as I can. Hope you enjoyed this one.**

**Song was Go Your Own Way, by Fleetwood Mac**


	10. Scratch

**Chapter 10 - Scratch**

**19th July 2018**

Molly could have sworn it was becoming difficult to breathe. BATUS was already at an altitude where the air felt thick like cotton wool, and dizziness was common, but she had long ago become used to the conditions. Now though, it was all coming back to her, because she was dizzy, and breathless, and downright terrified to turn around and be confronted with the sight she had been certain she would never see again.

She had to take control of her senses and tell herself what Julia had reminded her only this morning. She was Molly Dawes, the woman who had joined the Army, despite the protests of her family, and made it work. She had gone out to Afghanistan and proven herself. She had been awarded a medal for bravery for Christ's sake. And here she was, terrified to turn around to face the man who she had loved for years, but who clearly didn't love her. She had to get a grip. She could handle this.

"Molly?"

She heard her name fall from his lips yet again, and this time forced herself to look up and round; this time with steely, determined eyes. She harnessed the same adrenaline that would usually be directing her to flee in the opposite direction, and she held her chin up with courage. Julia had turned around to watch her with narrowed eyes, brain clearly working overtime to assess whether what she _suspected _was happening was _actually_ the case. She watched Molly intently, and inclined her head in the direction of Charles, eyebrows raised. The question in that tilt of her head was obvious enough to Molly.

_Is it him?_

Molly nodded her head imperceptibly at the implied question, and noted the stiffening in Julia's posture as she clearly readied herself to defend her friend. Molly alternated her gaze to Charles, daring herself to do what she thought she couldn't, and face the issue head on. As their eyes met, she felt her courage waver, and had to remind herself to breathe, _slow and steady_. She had no idea where she found the strength, but she did it anyway. She dared herself to maintain the gaze, to demonstrate that not all of her fighting spirit had deserted her in the years since they had parted. She harnessed the hurt that she felt that morning in Newport upon finding out about Rebecca, and turned it to anger with him. _Anger that he would put her in this position_.

She was doing a very good job of harnessing that anger, and felt tears burning the back of her eyes at the shame of it all. _He was a married man_. She felt dirty, cheap, and used. She focused on that sense of betrayal to allow her to proceed, a bitter tone colouring her voice.

"Major James" she addressed him formally, with complete and utter professionalism and distance, knowing that it would make him wince. It did, and she tried to ignore the hurt in his eyes when she did it.

Julia could see the turmoil building in her friend, and knew that she would have to extract her from this situation. Molly was already balanced on a knife edge emotionally after their discussion this morning, and this was not going to assist in pulling her back into calm territory. She acted quickly to try and salvage the situation before it degenerated.

"Major James, I'll visit Sam shortly to deal with any queries which you _or his mother_ have." She intoned the words very carefully, particularly when mentioning Rebecca, who she had met the night before when treating Sam. His gaze was still locked with Molly's, neither willing to look away from the silent stand-off which the two were currently having. They simply stared at each other, neither willing to look away, or to speak further. "Molly, we need to go". Julia backed away from Charles and made her way towards Molly, who remained standing stock still, chin raised in defiance, although Julia could spot what looked like a tremble in her chin. She wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer without crying. Julia grabbed her wrist, and pulled her away before being interrupted by Charles, who had decided to stop the silence and attempt to take charge of the situation.

"Molly, we need to talk-" he implored, walking towards them as Molly tried to assess whether she should allow herself to be shepherded from this situation by Julia. She made her decision quickly and turned in the opposite direction.

Charles continued to follow them, willing to push the point, before he was taken aback by a sucker punch as she turned around and risked one last look at him.

"There's nothing to say. I don't wanna talk to you."

* * *

Julia trudged up the stairs of the apartment complex that evening, cursing her bad day. She hadn't been able to find Molly at all after dragging her away from the near catastrophe in the hospital entrance in the morning. She had hung around the hospital before she left, but had given up eventually when there was no sign of her, half expecting her to have come home already. She climbed the final flight of stairs, only to be confronted by the sight of a random squaddie sitting at the door of the flat, scrambling up to a standing position when he saw her. She raised an eyebrow at him, expecting some sort of explanation as to why he sat at her front door expectantly. His dark eyes bored into hers before he looked away awkwardly.

When he didn't offer an explanation as to his presence, blocking her way to the front door, she sighed with exasperation.

"Yes?" she enquired impatiently.

He looked sheepish, and rubbed his short dark hair with his hand, hesitating before he spoke.

"You're.." he tailed off, not sure where to go with his explanation. This bird was fucking gorgeous, and he had completely lost the thread of what he wanted to say. _Fucking hell._

"Knackered, had a shitty day, overworked and looking for an explanation for why a random idiot with no words is standing on my doorstep? Yes, I'm all of those things." She stifled a yawn as she rattled the insult out, barely having to put any effort in. It was second nature to her.

He had always thought Irish accents were reasonably friendly, but every single word coming from her mouth dripped with sarcasm and hostility. Suddenly, she didn't seem quite so attractive, as he realised exactly who she was.

"Fucking hell, it's the flatmate! And here I was thinking we'd never get to actually meet in person. Oh, cheers for passing on my message to Molly by the way, much appreciated." He smiled, matching her sarcasm.

She groaned with realisation. "Oh Jesus, it's the scouser. As if this day wasn't bad enough! I would say lovely to meet you, but I was always brought up not to lie." She cocked her head to the side as she said it, weighing up the man in front of her. He had a twinkle in his eye that she found immensely irritating. Most men gave up and walked away after a harsh word from her, but this idiot was obviously a glutton for punishment.

Brains eyed her warily. "Just as charming in person I see. Where's Molly?"

"Hmm..." Julia pretended to look around the corridor. "Unless she's found her invisibility cloak, she's not here." She looked directly at him, accusingly. "Oh, and if you're here to warn her about "_Major Dickhead_" arriving in the country with the wife and kid in tow, you're a good 12 hours too late. Good job!" she added sarcastically, clapping her hands together slowly.

_Ah shit._ He should have known it would all go tits up before he managed to get to Molly. This bird was staring him up and down, and it was really beginning to annoy him. She looked like a goddess, but had the personality of a rottweiler.

He addressed her as she continued to stare. "You should really see a doctor about getting that stick removed from your arse you know."

She smiled sweetly. "I am a doctor, sweetheart, and my arse is just fine as it is thanks. Since you were checking it out a minute ago, you would probably know that."

"Ooh, ladies and gentlemen, we've got a feisty one here." he tried not to laugh at the anger flooding her features, focusing on the task in hand instead. "When will Molly be back?"

"What am I, her keeper? Why don't you try phoning her." She looked at him in mock innocence. "Oh no, I forgot, she doesn't want to speak to you, does she?" Julia adopted an unusually sweet tone, making him wince at the correctness of her statement.

He ignored her outright hostility towards him. He was quite enjoying it actually. "I think I'll just wait for her. You don't mind if I stop here for a bit, do you?"

"Yes, I do mind, actually."

He gave her his best hangdog look and she relented.

"Fine. But don't expect me to speak to you."

"Music to my ears love."

* * *

Molly's shift was long finished, and darkness was beginning to fall, but a feeling of exhaustion and despondency at the events of that morning had overtaken her, together with a return of the nausea from earlier. She sought refuge in the place she usually went to get her head straight; the roof of the hospital building.

The mild evening air surrounded her as she lay on the concrete floor in silent peace watching the sky above her. It was the most peaceful place on earth as far as she was concerned. Dusk was falling, and the only light in the vast countryside came from the glittering sky above her. It was spectacular. She often found herself up here after a bad day, to remind herself of the beauty she was surrounded by. She hadn't noticed, as she made her way to her place of refuge, that a pair of curious eyes had watched her approach the stairwell that led to the roof, following her after realising her destination.

Charles now stood behind her as she lay on the concrete surface of the roof, staring at the sky. She knew he was there; he could see her body stiffen as he came nearer, shortening the space between them. He couldn't bear to see her so tense, and tried to lighten the mood in some way.

"This is definitely an upgrade from the roof of the shitter."

She closed her eyes and half laughed at that; a stifled, sad attempt at a laugh. If only they were back in those days in Afghan, before everything had become so complicated. Back then, they were just Bossman and Dawesy, and a look from him would be filled with all sorts of things, flirtation and mischief usually. Now, all that existed between them was pain and misunderstanding.

She craved those simpler times, where she would stand from afar and watch him as he worked out, bare chested in the gym. Back in those days she used to allow her imagination to go into overdrive as she dreamt up scenarios where she could walk straight over to him and kiss him until they were both breathless with need. Unfortunately, those simpler times, where anything felt possible, were long gone.

While she had been lost in her thoughts, he had taken the opportunity to sit on the floor beside where she currently lay. His knees were raised to his chest, forearms leaning on them. He played awkwardly with a pen in his hands, not looking at her. She continued to lie still, the nausea slowly subsiding. She felt bizarrely calm lying there with him sitting at her side in silence. She tried to force the anger to return, but found herself lacking the energy. Instead, she found herself curiously addressing him.

"Why are you here?"

He didn't look up from his place to the side of her, still fiddling with the pen. "Why am I in BATUS? Or why am I sitting on a roof with you?"

"Both"

He sighed, sounding defeated. "I'm out here to work, which you've probably guessed by now. I'm up here hoping you might actually talk to me, rather than run in the opposite direction." He looked to his side, straight into her eyes, before he added a bitter aside. "Or to the other side of the world."

She carried on staring at the sky, focusing on a beautiful section of stars she had discovered before he interrupted her. "I keep telling you, we've got nothing to talk about" she was stubborn in her insistence that she didn't want to hear his excuses for how things had worked out. They very much did have something they needed to talk about, but she wasn't quite ready to face up to that yet.

"Well I'm afraid there's only one exit, and I'm sitting in front of it. You have no choice but to talk to me now."

"Not really." He looked at her curiously before she clarified. "Suppose I could just jump."

He laughed in hurt disbelief. "You're that desperate not to speak to me?"

She was defiant in her response. "It's like I said this morning, there's nothing to say."

"You could at least let me explain."

She ignored the comment, wishing he would just drop it. She couldn't bear to hear any excuses from him for what had become a sordid one-night stand. There was no other way to describe it, but it didn't fit in with the way he had behaved that night. It felt special, like it meant something. The thought pained her, so she pushed it away and changed the subject.

"I heard about Sam. The kidney donation. That was an amazing thing to do for him."

He smiled at the mention of the only person who could be guaranteed to lift his spirits. "He's my son. I'd have taken his place if I could. Giving him a kidney was the next best thing."

"Not everybody would do that. You're a good dad." She paused as she considered whether to voice it, eventually deciding against going further. This time she made sure to look at him, straight in the eyes, as she continued with her observation. "Shit husband, though."

He bit back a sense of foreboding at her words. At least she was acknowledging that something had happened between them instead of acting like a stranger. "I'm glad I'm nobody's husband, in that case."

"I think Rebecca might have something to say about that." She smiled wryly, finally voicing the name she had tortured herself with for the last few weeks, trying to bury the pain that she currently felt at the direction the conversation was going. She had brought it up after all.

"I'm sure she would. But we didn't get remarried after the divorce, so she wouldn't have a leg to stand on."

"Technicality." Molly muttered under her breath, and glowered when he looked to his side again to watch her curiously, raising his eyebrows in surprise at her use of the word.

"Yeah, I do know what it means, don't look so surprised." He had the good grace to look down at the pen in his hands rather than at her eyes. "It don't make much difference that you didn't put the ring on her finger. She's still your wife."

"You're probably right. But she's not even my wife in that capacity any more. I moved out a few weeks ago."

That caught her attention. "Why?"

He snorted in surprise that she actually sounded confused about it. "Why do you think, Molly?"

"I dunno? How about cos you felt bad for cheating on her? Or she found out and chucked you out on your arse?"

He sighed as he tried to go some way towards explaining it. "Molly. I'm not going to deny that I was living with her and attempting to be a family. But I don't want you to ever think that what happened between us in Newport was like that."

"Like what?"

"Like it was me cheating on Rebecca. What happened between us that night meant something to me, even if it didn't to you."

Her eyes flashed with something he couldn't quite decipher. There was definite anger and hurt, but they were accompanied by something else that he couldn't place. She wouldn't look at him, staring up at the sky instead.

Her next words were small and quiet, not like Molly at all. "Don't lie", she muttered.

He looked at her, not sure what she meant. Really looked at her. He saw the uncertainty and pain in her eyes. There was something different about her, and he only wished he knew what it was. This was only the third time he had laid eyes on her in four long years, but he still felt like he knew her inside out. _And something wasn't right._

He turned on his side before moving from his sitting position to lie on the ground beside her. They were right beside each other, not even touching, but it felt so intimate that he wanted to fold her up in his arms. Instead, he restrained himself and propped his elbow on the ground so that his hand could support his head as his body turned in her direction.

She made no reaction to his movements, and so he turned his attention to her words. "I'm not lying. We were both there Molly. Don't try and pretend it wasn't something special."

"I was pissed, how am I supposed to remember." Her words were designed to wound him, and they did. He tried to ignore the pain that coursed through him at her denial, confident that her statement was wrong.

"Now who's lying?"

She turned to watch him, as his eyebrow raised with the question. _Shit. He had her there._ He was still talking, and she tried to block it out as he tortured her.

"You remember it all, don't you?" He leaned down towards where she lay, and whispered in her ear, provoking all kinds of memories. A tear escaped her eye, and made a track down towards her hair. She could feel it make its path until it was stopped in its tracks by his thumb. He rubbed the moisture away. She tried to ignore the sensation she felt from his brief contact with her skin.

"Don't cry."

She wanted to cry. She wanted to weep with the unfairness of the whole situation.

"You should have told me. You turned it into something seedy and wrong when you didn't tell me. You've got no idea how crap you made me feel."

"I think I do. Imagine how crap I felt waking up to an empty bed. After that, after what we'd shared. _You ran._" He stared at her accusingly. "And don't say it was because of Rebecca, because you didn't even know that yet. I was going to explain everything that morning but you didn't give me the chance."

"Don't try and make me feel bad. I had my reasons for going. And they all made even more sense when I found out the truth. That I was your _bit on the side_." Her cheeks burned bright red with shame at the thought of it.

He was angry now, his eyes swimming with fury that she could ever think that. "Don't ever, _ever _say that again Molly. Yes, Rebecca and I were living together, with Sam. We were trying. But it wasn't anything approaching a normal relationship. We didn't even sleep in the same bed for Christ's sake. I was only there for Sam."

"For Sam?"

"Yes, for Sam. At the end of the day, Rebecca is the mother of my child, and after everything that happened, I felt like I owed it to her to try and be a family. It didn't work."

"You only got back together with her cos she's Sam's mum?" She looked pained at the revelation, and he wasn't sure why.

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. It had seemed like it was for the best at the time, but he was ashamed of his reasoning now. "Yes." She stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, so he did. "I'm not in love with her. I'm not sure I ever was, if I'm honest."

He watched her stiffen as his words registered. She closed her eyes briefly before continuing. "So what changed?"

"I couldn't go on like that. _We_ couldn't go on like that. What happened between you and I in Newport just reinforced it. I couldn't keep pretending after seeing you again, after _being with you _again." His eyes darkened as he referred to it, and she held back a shudder at the thought. This wasn't the time to get sidetracked yet again by memories of that night. If she allowed that to happen, god knows what the result would be.

"Molly. That night was special. I won't forget it until the day I die. You made me feel something I haven't felt in years. Like I could do anything, like _anything _was possible."

She was crying again, and he couldn't bear it. The tears flowed faster now, too fast for him to stop their tracks with his thumb like he had. He leaned towards her and pressed his lips to her temple, tasting the salty moisture gathered there. She didn't flinch like he had feared she would, but slammed her eyes closed, almost as though she was trying to bury her emotions. He moved his lips, this time to gently press against the tip of her nose, reminding him of when he did the same thing during that night in Newport. She shuddered, just like she did that night, and let a low moan escape from her throat at the recreation of the memory.

She wasn't stopping him, although her eyes were still pressed tightly together, refusing to open and meet his gaze. He brought his free hand to her face, the other continuing to support his head as he lay next to her. His thumb ran along her lips, brushing gently over the faint blush of her lower lip as she moaned again. He felt braver, and captured that lower lip with his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth before pulling away. How he had the self control, he didn't know.

She opened her eyes in response, and sincerely wished she hadn't when she met his stare. He was watching her with such intensity that she felt as though she was under a microscope. Now that her eyes were opened, he dropped a light kiss on her lips. It was so light that she barely felt his touch. She wanted so much more from him at that particular moment. As he made a move to pull his head away from the light kiss, she grabbed the back of his head, pulling him closer to her. This time it was his turn to moan, as she gripped his hair and returned their lips to each other, desperate to deepen the contact and kiss properly. He cautiously ventured into her mouth with his tongue, trying to keep a handle on what was happening in the face of her now demanding kisses. His hand found her body, and wound its way round her waist before caressing her stomach gently as they continued to kiss.

He had absolutely no clue what happened to set her off, but she pulled away from him in shock, pulling his hand away from her stomach with force. Her lips were plump and full, and her tears were gone, but she looked at him in horror. His brain tried to catch up with the frantic pace of whatever had alarmed her so much, but was drawing a complete blank.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just, I can't do this. We can't do this. Rebecca and Sam are in this building, waiting for you. It's not right."

_She was lying_. He knew she was lying. She couldn't look at him as she spoke, and flinched when he looked at her intently."There's something else. What is it?"

She pulled herself up to a standing position, still refusing to look in his direction as she rushed to gather herself and get away from him before she said something she shouldn't. His words about Rebecca still rang in her ears. He had only been with her out of a sense of duty, because she was the mother of his child. _Would he feel like that about her if he knew the truth? She too, was the mother of his child. Or she would be. _She badly needed some time away from him to try and work through it in her head. She knew the longer she spent in his company, the more desperate she would be to kiss him, and hold him. She had to be alone to try and even wrap her head around what she was going to do.

She rushed down the stairwell that led back to the hospital corridor, trying to ignore his calls as he followed her, hot on her heels. She was almost blinded by the tears that fell from her eyes as she raced down the steep stairs, breathing a sigh of relief as she reached the bottom.

"Molly. Don't run away from me." He caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs, relief filling his face as she turned to speak to him.

"I'm not running. I just need some time. Go and be with Sam. He needs you."

He caressed her face again with his hand, relieved that she at least hadn't fled, although he knew that something was deeply upsetting her. He wanted to press her on it, but he had a feeling it would only push her away. Instead, he pulled her towards him, hugging her tightly, and dropping a light kiss on the top of her head.

Suddenly, the moment in the corridor was broken, as he raised his eyes, and met the furious, cold stare of his ex-wife.

"Well, well. Look who it is." she uttered with a cold voice, as she stared at the woman in his arms.

* * *

**AN. Dun Dun Dun….Drumroll please….**

**Sorry to do it to you again (really, I am!). So, Rebecca has stumbled across something she **_**really**_ **doesn't want to see. Molly **_**still**_ **hasn't spilled her news. CJ is altogether confused. And what are Julia and Brains up to whilst all of this is going on?! Hope you enjoyed the update. Various factors are making it a little bit difficult for me to write at the moment, but will get another one up as fast as I can. Thanks for your lovely comments on the last chapter.**

**Song was Scratch, by Kendall Payne.**


	11. One Day Like This

**Chapter 11 - One day like this **

**19th July 2018 (cont)**

_He caressed her face again with his hand, relieved that she at least hadn't fled, although he knew that something was deeply upsetting her. He wanted to press her on it, but he had a feeling it would only push her away. Instead, he pulled her towards him, hugging her tightly, and dropping a light kiss on the top of her head._

_Suddenly, the moment in the corridor was broken, as he raised his eyes, and met the furious, cold stare of his ex-wife._

"_Well, well. Look who it is." she uttered with a cold voice, as she stared at the woman in his arms._

"Rebecca" he acknowledged her presence, feeling Molly stiffen in his embrace.

Rebecca continued to stare, not at him, but at Molly, who remained in his arms for now, but was attempting to pull away. He didn't let her go for a second. He had a horrible feeling that Rebecca was about to blow.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here Charles?" Her tone was quiet but deadly.

He attempted to control the situation, knowing that he would be unsuccessful, but trying anyway. Molly was still pulling away, and he let her go this time, watching her visibly shrink under Rebecca's intense stare. "Rebecca, this doesn't involve you. Go back inside the room with Sam, and I'll be there shortly."

Her gaze finally diverted to Charles, her fury descending at the same time. "Like hell I will. Why didn't you tell me she was here? There's no way I would have agreed to come and visit with Sam if I'd known you were only out in Canada to hide away with your little girlfriend."

Molly's attention was captured by that statement, and she looked at Charles, blocking Rebecca out of her line of vision. "_Visiting_?"

Charles was confused by the question, until it suddenly dawned on him. Molly still thought that Rebecca was out here as his wife. He felt utterly sick at the thought that she mustn't have believed him when he told her the truth about them splitting up. He watched her carefully as he responded. "Yes, she's visiting with Sam. I told you, we've split up."

Molly looked down as she responded, her cheeks flushing bright red. "I know, but I wasn't sure if...I thought-" she trailed off, not sure what to say. It wasn't that she had an outright suspicion that he was lying, she just hadn't had a chance to work through all of it in her head, and he hadn't fully explained everything. She saw the hurt and frustration in his stance as he spoke.

"You didn't believe me?" He voiced the question, but there was no point. They both knew the answer. Molly tried to justify it regardless, almost forgetting the third person still involved in the conversation.

"Can you blame me for being confused?" Her watery eyes bored into his. "You ain't exactly been completely straight with me in the past."

Rebecca seized the moment, sensing the fractured relationship between the two people in front of her, and feeling an immediate sense of satisfaction. "Nice to see that she trusts you, Charles." She wasn't finished, and added salt to the wound as she smirked "-what a solid foundation for any relationship."

Charles' head snapped towards her. "If I need your input I'll ask for it."

Rebecca wasn't finished with him, continuing to stare. "You still haven't answered my question. Did you know that she was out here? Is that why you walked out on your wife and child? _For her_?" She aimed a contemptuous look at Molly to make her point, expecting Molly to flinch. Only she didn't. Molly weighed Rebecca up carefully, shocked at the venom which clearly coursed through her. But she didn't flinch. She was sick of feeling like the weak link in this situation.

Charles brought his hand to his head, rubbing his hair in frustration. "You know exactly why I left, let's not cover old ground."

Rebecca smirked again at that, lashing out to deal with her own pain over the situation. "Oh yes, let's not upset your little tart."

That was enough for Molly, and she was finally angered out of her silence. "Excuse me?"

She felt a cold, icy stare look her up and down. It was almost enough to make her shiver. Rebecca responded with a sweet tone, but her words were nothing but vindictive. "Oh didn't you hear me? I called you his little tart." Molly was briefly silenced, shocked by her words so she continued. "I hope you're proud of yourself, causing the end of a marriage. I almost feel sorry for you. You're completely correct not to trust him of course. Won't take him long to do the same to you as he did to me. You'd better watch your back, a replacement will always be there, ready and willing to step in, just like you were."

Charles had heard more than enough, and physically stepped between the two women before Molly had a chance to respond. "That's enough."

"Oh I'm just getting started." Rebecca tried to look past him to engage once more with her target.

"Trust me, you're not doing anything." He lowered his head towards his ex-wife, and spoke in a calm, measured tone. "Don't embarrass yourself any more than you have." His head gestured towards Molly, his eyes softening when he looked at her. "I love her. I've always loved her, and I've always been honest about that, even when you and I got back together. I'm never going to stop loving her, regardless of anything else that happens. None of what's happened is Molly's responsibility. It's mine. So just _stop_."

Molly's heart raced at his words, a sense of calm washing over her somehow in the face of Rebecca's anger. Charles spoke with authority, and she believed every single word of what she heard him say.

His calmness only infuriated his ex-wife more. "I will not bloody stop! If you think when you get back home from your little Canadian love nest that I'm letting you anywhere near Sam, you're sadly mistaken." She was on the verge of hysterical now.

Unfortunately, the volume of her shouts had increased enough to be heard by others, and Molly watched as a young boy in pyjamas, with thick hair ruffled on his head, emerged at the door of the room which they stood outside. Although she had only ever met him briefly, years ago, she would recognise him anywhere. He was the image of his father. His wide, brown eyes filled with tears as he looked at the scene in confusion. Molly was the nearest to him, and she felt an involuntary urge to reach out to him.

"Sam?" she addressed him with a whisper, hoping that it would draw his gaze from the meltdown which his mother was suddenly experiencing.

"What's going on?" His lower lip trembled as he took in the scene. He had grown so much that she wasn't much taller than him. He was so much more grown up than she remembered, but still undeniably young and innocent. She wanted to sweep him up and take him away from what must be an unbearable sight for him. She suddenly felt a familiar image return to her brain; of her at ten years old, sitting on the stairs of the flat in East Ham in the middle of the night, listening as Dave and Belinda screamed at each other. She remembered sitting on the stairs, comforting two of her sisters as they listened to the shouts, unable to sleep for the noise. She felt so much empathy for Sam at that moment; also viewing a scene that he shouldn't be party to at his age.

Suddenly, his parents registered the fourth person present in the awkward moment, and stopped tearing each other to shreds, turning their attention to their upset son. Molly pulled away, knowing that she had no place here. Not right now.

She managed to sneak away before Charles registered that she was leaving, opening the gap between them in the corridor as he and Rebecca pulled their upset son back into his room.

* * *

5th August 2018

Molly sat awkwardly in the waiting room of the clinic, Julia in a chair by her right hand side reading from a book. The pair sat in silence waiting for Molly's name to be called by the receptionist. They had been waiting for almost forty minutes so far, a seemingly endless stream of names being called in her place. Waiting appeared to be the theme of the day; the clinic was almost two hours drive from the base, and the nearest absolutely non-military facility of its kind that they could find. Molly still hadn't confessed her condition to anybody beyond Julia, and had managed to convince her to stay quiet until today's appointment was over and done with.

She drummed her fingers with nervousness on the wooden arms of the chair, feeling uncomfortable. As a sense of nervousness and apprehension filled her body at the prospect of what was about to happen, she pulled a well-thumbed piece of paper from her purse, and opened it. The paper contained the neat and elegant handwriting that she would have recognised anywhere. She read the words again, although she probably could have recited the letter word perfectly to anybody who asked.

_21st July 2018_

_Molly_

_If you're reading this letter, then it means I have managed to utilise all of my best persuasion skills to convince your flatmate to pass it on. I think that deserves some credit, as I genuinely feared for several of my body parts the last time I spoke with her. She has a skill of invoking fear on a similar level to the Taliban, particularly with Brains, who refers to her as the 'Irish Rottweiler' (please do not tell her, or him, that I told you that)._

_I know that you were surprised that I turned up here in BATUS without any prior warning. I'm sincerely sorry for the way that it all happened, although I could never be sorry for seeing you again. I know how much I've hurt you, and please know that it wasn't ever my intention to do that. I told you in Bath, more than 4 years ago, that I loved you, and that I wanted you to be brilliant. I meant it then, and I still mean it now. _

_I handled things all wrong with you and Rebecca, and I've hurt everybody in the process, including Sam, the very person whom I was trying to protect. By the time you read this letter, Sam and Rebecca will be on their way home, and I'll be out on the prairie on exercise. I'm not sure if you have already heard from either Brains or Fingers, but we are scheduled to return to base from the exercise on 1st September. _

_You said that you needed time to get things straight in your head. You have no idea how much I hope that six weeks is enough time for that to happen. I remember telling you once in the past that you needed to sort your world, and everything in it. I now know that's true of myself as well as you._

_I've taken steps since Newport to try and right the wrongs for which I'm at fault. But there is one thing I haven't done. I haven't apologised to you. From the moment that we saw each other after Smurf's funeral, I wasn't fair to you. I punished you for my own failings, and for my guilt and jealousy. I'm so very sorry for behaving that way Molly._

_I spent the next four years punishing both of us for my own stupidity. I should have tried harder to find you, and not let myself be dissuaded by others. But I didn't. I gave up. On you, on us, and on any faith that we would be able to fix what had gone wrong. I'm not prepared to give up any more. Not until I'm sure that you know just how much I love you. I will come back to you, on 1st September. I hope that by then, you may have found it in your heart to forgive me, and that we might be able to move forward from this together._

_I love you very much. Please don't ever forget that._

_Yours, always._

_Charles_

"Oh god, she's reading the letter again, fetch me the sick bucket." Julia looked up from her book and grinned as she nudged Molly's side.

"You're just jealous cos nobody would write you a love letter, you tosser."

"Oh, please. '_Major hottie_' was public enemy no.1 until he came up with that letter. He's just lucky I passed it on to you without inflicting any injury on him, or his perfect hair. Are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck it says, or are you just gonna clutch it to your chest like a Jane Austen heroine forever more?"

"Shut it. Maybe you should ask _Brains_ to write you a love letter of your own." This time it was Molly's turn to grin as Julia did her best to pull a face of complete disinterest.

"Firstly, I doubt that scouse tosspot could write his own name, never mind a letter. Secondly, I note that you waited till I got up at the crack of dawn and drove you for two hours to the arse end of nowhere until you started with your _very funny jokes_."

"That's interesting" noted Molly quietly, folding her letter back up to put it back in its safe place.

"What's interesting?"

"Well, I was expecting to deny anything was going on between you two. Which you didn't. Interesting, like I said."

Julia glared at her. "Ok. Well I shall add, _for clarification_, that even if he was the last man on earth, I wouldn't go there."

"Yeah. Whatever you say mate. Although you wasn't saying that the night I came home and caught you two looking well cosy on the couch." Molly looked at her, before dissolving into giggles at the dirty look aimed in her direction.

"_Molly Dawes_" the young nurse broke their conversation as she called the name from her place at the door.

She stood on wobbly legs, and followed her down the corridor, feeling anticipation build inside of her with every footstep she took towards the room. She moved her hand down protectively to her very slightly rounded abdomen to reassure herself for a moment. The swell was barely noticeable, but it felt like a shift in the earth to Molly.

She soon found herself anxiously pacing back and forth in a narrow room. The nurse had already left, and Molly was left with nothing to do other than twist her watch in nervous circles as she poked about, waiting for the doctor to arrive. The exam room wasn't particularly unusual; plain white walls covered with illustrations of a foetus in the various stages of gestation. Still, Molly's legs were shaky, and she found herself wishing she could sneak back out into the safety of the waiting room without anyone noticing. Out there, she could count on Julia to say something to distract her. But here, inside the small, quiet room, there was nothing except for the frustratingly persistent knowledge that she had avoided telling Charles about this for far too long now.

She could have had told him, but she hadn't, and now she was dealing with this alone. For at least the next few weeks anyway. God knows what he would say when he found out how long she had been keeping the secret. _But she was terrified to tell him_. Terrified that despite all of his words of love, that he would view being with her as a duty rather than something he wanted. They couldn't even manage to sort themselves out, let alone be parents. What the hell was he going to say?

_Stop being stupid_, she thought angrily, interrupting her own train of thought. Her mind flickered back to the thought of a fifteen year-old Julia, and she scolded herself suitably, as she once again placed a trembling hand on her stomach. "We're not alone", she whispered under her breath to her stomach, rubbing her hand over the small bump which was obvious only to her.

The same older male doctor whom Molly had spoken with earlier that morning entered the room, drawing Molly from her thoughts as he addressed her and gestured to the examination table in the middle of the room. He was short, with greying hair and a kind twinkle in his blue eyes, which carried on as he made small talk with her. Molly hoisted herself on to the table uncomfortably, and it suddenly struck her how wrong it felt to be doing this alone. _Without him. _The thought continued to haunt her as she lifted the lower half of her top and felt the cold gel being spread out over her abdomen. Before she knew it, the overhead light in the room had been dimmed, and the small screen at the side of the bed crackled into life as the probe made contact with her stomach, rolling around gently.

"There we are" the doctor said, as he zoomed in on the image that filled the screen. Molly felt the breath she had been holding release from her with force as she stared at the screen, mesmerised. The image in front of her was magical. A tiny little body, with a head, and arms, and legs lay in front of her, as clear as day, despite its black and white tone. _Her baby. Their baby._

The probe continued to move over her stomach as the doctor pointed out the various features on the screen. Molly wasn't even aware of the tears trickling down her face until the doctor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it gently in her hand.

"We were correct about your dates Molly. The scan is showing you as 12 weeks and 4 days pregnant. That makes your due date approximately 14th February. A Valentine's Day baby. Congratulations."

"Is everything ok? I mean, everything's normal isn't it."

""Everything looks completely normal. Don't look so worried." He smiled kindly at her, and her beam lit up the room.

Julia had told her that there would be a moment. A moment where it would all fall into place, and she would suddenly know, without a shadow of a doubt that she could do it. It was that precise moment, alone with the kind doctor with the sparkling eyes that she looked at her baby on that screen and knew without a shadow of any doubt. She loved that image on the screen with an immediate, unstoppable force; one that took the breath from her. No matter what else happened, she could do this. She was going to be a mum. _She was ready._

* * *

**AN. Hello! No cliffhanger this time! :-) I'm actually feeling very emotional on behalf of Molly. She's beginning to see the bigger picture. She doesn't get drawn into a fight with Rebecca, and concentrates on Sam instead. And she is finally getting to grips with the concept of motherhood, something which horrified her previously. She loves her baby, and she is seeing the way ahead. The only issue is that CJ still doesn't know, and things aren't still fully resolved between them. How do we think he will react?! He will play a bigger part in the next chapter, so perhaps we will find out then...**

**I'm thrilled that most of you seem to be enjoying this - it's become longer than I anticipated at the outset, but I hope you will bear with me until the end. Still a couple more bumps in the road, but stick with me! **

**Song was one day like this, by elbow.**


	12. Chapter 12: Small Bump

25th August 2018

"Oh good god." Julia pulled Molly into the nearest ladies toilet, glancing up and down her uniform as she looked at her. "Have you just arrived for your shift? You have a serious problem."

"What?" Molly asked as she peered down at her uniform to whatever Julia was looking at. "Oh shit, have I dropped something down myself again? I almost slept in since I was up half the bloody night at the loo, got dressed in a hurry."

Julia's eyes continued to focus on Molly's tummy, pausing as she checked each of the toilet cubicles, pushing the doors open to ensure that they weren't occupied. She came back to stand before Molly, looking at her with serious eyes before letting out a chuckle.

"You popped."

Molly's jaw gaped before she looked down. "Shut up! I haven't bloody popped. I think I'd notice if I'd popped." She stood side on and examined herself in the mirror, hands resting behind her back, looking for any sign of what Julia was now staring at. She caught sight of a small, but perfectly formed roundness, now poking out to even the untrained eye as what looked suspiciously like the beginnings of a baby bump.

"Oh shit..-"

"Looks like _somebody's_ gonna be announcing their special news today." Julia shook her head with mirth.

Molly began to panic, pacing the floor before pausing in front of the mirror, just to check again. "No Jules! _I can't_. Not yet. I need to wait for Charles to get back from exercise and tell him what's happening. He ain't due back for another week! It ain't fair for him to come back and I've told everyone except him that I'm pregnant. Oh _fuck_, what am I gonna do?"

A thought occurred to Julia, and she realised it might just work. "There might be something you can do." She stuck her head out of the door to the toilets to ensure nobody was milling about in the corridor before she made her way back to Molly and raised her arms in the air, pulling her regulation shirt from her body, leaving her with just a bra.

Molly watched in horror. "What the fuck are you doing? If you're saying I should switch to the other team, it would have been wiser to try doing that 4 months ago!"

"Shut up you idiot, and give me your top."

"How the hell is that gonna help?"

"You're a small, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well I, on account of my _spectacular_ tits, am a medium. So put this on and see if it helps."

Molly sighed, and realised this was her only choice if she wanted to try and wait out for another little while. She pulled her top off as Julia's eyes widened at the sight at the taut, bare skin on her stomach, poking out in a perfect curve.

"Oh would you look at that?!" She whispered in wonder, trying desperately not to remember what it felt like to be in that position. "You really have popped."

Molly was still trying desperately not to panic. "Stop checking me out and give me your top you perv."

They swapped the material, both pulling their new garment over their heads and down. Molly examined the loose shirt that positively drowned her, but at least hid her rounded stomach from view.

"Thank fuck for that" she muttered as she smoothed the material down, trying to make it look like she hadn't dressed in somebody else's clothes.

"Ah Jesus Christ, I can't breathe in this thing." Molly giggled as Julia compressed her chest into the far too tight fitting top. "You're just lucky I'm a good mate."

"I think we can guarantee that nobody's gonna be talking to your face today." Molly giggled as Julia tried to fit her considerable chest into the cotton material so that she didn't look totally indecent.

"Ah fuck it, they're my best assets anyway. May as well have them out front and centre. I'll find my lab coat, maybe that'll drown them out."

Outfits exchanged, the two women stepped out of the bathroom before being stopped by one of the young male nurses. Molly giggled as she observed him trying his utmost not to look at Julia's chest, staring at the ceiling instead.

"Um, Dr Maguire, are you on call for emergencies today?"

"Yes. What's coming in?"

"Control just radio'd in, we've got an incoming from the exercise ground. 25 year old male with a dislocated shoulder."

"Why are they bringing him here? The medics could treat a dislocated shoulder up there."

"He's got a broken ankle as well. They've brought him down on a chopper. ETA 2 minutes."

"I'm on my way. See ya Molls." She yelled as she sprinted down the corridor, leaving her friend behind.

* * *

Charles paced the corridor of the hospital, and not for the first time since he'd arrived in Canada. He raked a hand through his hair as he waited outside the treatment room, wincing in sympathy as he heard the screams from his soldier as his shoulder was set back into place.

He couldn't help but desperately scour the hallway for the one face that he couldn't stop thinking about. He had spent the last five weeks hoping that she had received his letter, and that she would respond well to its contents. It was a last ditch attempt to try and convince her of his feelings. At this stage, anything was worth trying. So he put all of his emotions on one page, fervently hoping that it would convince her to give him a chance and hear him out.

He rounded the corridor, continuing to pace, and heard music to his ears. The sweet sound of Molly Dawes rinsing some poor sod out. He watched from afar, arms crossed over his chest, trying to hold back his laughter as she examined a patient who obviously had some abrasions to his face and hadn't sought medical treatment in nearly enough time to prevent them becoming infected.

He tried again not to laugh at her obvious grumpiness as she pottered round the bed to pull fresh supplies from a trolley. There was a slight heaviness in the way she walked, and he found himself wondering if she had somehow injured herself while he had been away. She seemed exhausted. Beautiful, but with unmistakable sunken eyes. She looked like somebody's little sister, in a top several sizes too big for her. It drowned her. He dutifully stopped himself from getting carried away with thoughts of what lay under the top. One step at a time, he reminded himself.

Molly sighed as she finished treating the wounds. "Seriously mate, you could've avoided all this hassle if you just got the bleedin things dealt with in the first place. Now I'm gonna have to stick you with a needle, and you ain't gonna enjoy it one bit. I'll be back shortly."

She wasn't looking where she was going as she wandered down the corridor, concentrating instead on the patient notes in her hand. She gasped as she walked into a solid wall of camouflage. He stood, arms still crossed tightly, smirking as she stared at him in shock.

"Quite the bedside manner, Dawes."

She took him in as he stood in front of her. Being out on the prairie in the height of summer obviously agreed with him. His skin was deeply tanned, and his hair was longer and wavier than the last time she saw him. He looked younger, and less struck by worry than the last time their eyes met in the same hospital corridor. Her hands automatically reached down to smooth over her top in an effort to conceal the very thing that she had been waiting for what felt like an eternity to talk to him about. She brought the notes she was carrying to rest in front of her stomach.

"I thought you weren't due back for another few days?" She eyed him warily. This wasn't what she had planned for at all. She wasn't ready for him to appear out of nowhere, all perfect and tanned, while she was knackered, wearing clothes two sizes too big for her and generally feeling like death. Even his eyes were sparkling as he stood in front of her, and he wasn't managing very well to suppress a grin. She shuffled around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.

"I came back with a medevac - Private Harvey managed to snap his ankle and dislocate his shoulder. I wanted to make sure he was alright." Charles failed to mention that as soon as he realised the soldier would be brought to the hospital, he made damn sure that he would be the one accompanying him, regardless of protocol. The exercise was almost over, and he had left two of his very able Captains in charge. He noted the awkward reception from Molly and began to pull back, wondering if he had managed to cock things up yet again. Maybe the letter was too much, he shouldn't have gone so full on with it. _Shit, he must have panicked her with its contents_. But he couldn't take half measures with it - he had to let her know how he felt.

Molly continued to shuffle awkwardly in front of him. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, but her body language was screaming that she didn't want to be close to him. She had pulled her bundle of notes in front of her, almost as a shield, and was hanging back nervously.

"When do you need to go back?" It was a hesitant whisper, and he wondered what on earth he had done to make her so distant. There was no explanation other than that the letter had been too much, too soon.

He looked at the floor before answering, hands still buried under his armpits. He had to keep them there to stop himself from touching her inappropriately. "It seems Harvey needs surgery to repair his ankle. According to your friend Dr Maguire, he's to go in later this afternoon. I had planned to wait until that's over, and make sure he's ok, before heading back."

Molly could see Charles begin to visibly deflate in front of her, and worried he had got the wrong impression. She was an absolute bundle of nerves, with no idea of how to approach the situation. Her heart was pounding, and she had to keep fighting the urge to place her hand on her bump protectively. She couldn't tell him here, in a hospital corridor. She had to think on her feet.

They continued to stare hesitantly at each other, misunderstanding and confusion thick in the air, until Molly let out a whisper.

"I got your letter."

She heard the deep whoosh of breath from his body as he exhaled, and she grinned as a sense of boyish nervousness seemed to suddenly exude from him. She had never seen him like this before. He wasn't saying anything, so she continued.

"Nobody's ever done anything like that for me before. It was beautiful."

"Molly.." He began to interrupt, eyes shining with emotion. She realised that this was it though. She couldn't avoid this for another minute. It felt wrong not to tell him the truth. She held an outstretched hand to him, a nervous smile gracing her lips when he locked his fingers with hers and fell into line behind her as she led him to an empty treatment room.

She was shaking with sheer nerves and anticipation, but if he noticed then he didn't mention it. She closed the door of the room behind them and placed her patient notes on a trolley by the door, removing the barrier that she had been using to keep them apart. She was humming with nervous energy, not to mention exhaustion, and the sheer amount of thought she had given to this moment started to weigh heavily upon her. She hadn't realised she was pacing until he placed a hand on her shoulder to still her.

"Charles, I need to tell you something." Before she knew it, there were huge, fat tears falling from her eyes, and she brushed them away harshly. The last thing she needed was her hormones interrupting when she needed to focus.

"Molly, what's the matter?" He looked at her with such utter concern and love that for a moment she felt like it might just be alright. Before she had a chance to open her mouth to address the huge matter that weighed on her mind, he moved towards her and pulled her into his arms, moulding their bodies together and burying his head in her hair.

Charles felt her freeze in his arms as he brought her towards him. It was a strange sequence of events, the relief of having her in his arms again combining with confusion at her reluctance to be held. But then, in almost a split second, he felt it. Every single time he had ever held her, they had fit together perfectly, her tiny body feeling like it was made for his. He knew what was different almost as soon as he felt it, and the realisations continued to hit him at once. His hand was pressed to her lower back, and he pressed her body even closer to him, just to be sure. She was whispering words at him, but it became secondary to the fact that his mind was whirring at a hundred miles an hour. Instead of the flat stomach that Molly always had, there was a hard, round bump in her stomach. One that was hidden from view, but was very clearly there. It was currently placed between both of their bodies, the centre of both of their attention.

He removed his head from where it was currently pressed in her hair, taking a moment to look at her, to ensure that there was no way he had this wrong. There were tears leaking down the sides of her eyes, and he wished desperately that he could stop them. What he didn't realise was that they matched his own.

"I'm pregnant." She held her breath as she let out the words that she had kept to herself for so very long now.

The silence that followed was less than a minute, but felt like an eternity. He watched her, choked with emotion as countless things ran through his head at one moment. None of them were important though. There was only one central fact of importance for him, and that was the woman in his arms.

He held her face in his hands, brushing the tears away with his fingers. He had to remind himself that she was waiting on a response.

"You're pregnant." He restated the fact simply, shifting his hands from her face to hug her again, just so he could feel the hard roundness in her abdomen again. It was no less surprising than the first time he did it, and he gasped in wonder at how different she felt in his arms. With their child between them.

"You're having my baby." It wasn't a question, he just needed to say the words out loud. He was having difficulty believing that this was actually happening, that in a second or two he wouldn't wake up and be lying in bed, eyes blinking after an incredibly vivid dream.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before...I just.. I was so scared, and I didn't know what to do." She stumbled over her words, not able to fully describe the terror she felt at the time. The terror she still felt half the time now. "I was angry with you as well, for some of the time."

"Because you thought I was off playing happy families with Rebecca." He stated, closing his eyes with the shame of it. How ironic that he had been doing that for the sake of his child when there was another one that he was totally unaware of. He let her go for a second, unable to fully process everything that was happening. The rational, military side of his brain was whirring with questions and observations, while his emotional side was screaming out at him with all sorts of things. He couldn't be holding her at the same time, it was too much.

He sat on the side of the bed holding his head in his hands.

"I can't get my head around this Molly. How long have you known?"

She hung her head with her response, fiddling with the hem of her too large uniform. "A couple of months."

The starkness of the situation grasped him and he looked at her, a mixture of hurt, anger and some concern on his features. "You've known about this for 2 months and kept it from me? You must be nearly 4 months pregnant?"

"Yeah, but I had to get things straight in my nut. By the time you arrived here I was still in a bit of a state. Then, before I knew it, you were away on exercise again. It's only since I had the scan that I've been feeling better about things.." She trailed off as she mentioned it, realising that it was another moment she had excluded him from.

She wished she didn't have to see the pained look on his eyes as he continued to take the news in. "You've had a scan. You've seen the baby?"

"Yes" she mumbled, wishing she could rewind this conversation. It wasn't going well.

At least he wasn't shouting the place down like she had half expected, but this quiet, simmering sense of hurt was almost worse than anger. She made her way towards him, desperate to be near him, to make up for his current sadness.

"I've got a picture in my locker. I can get it for you" she stood in front of him as he sat perched on the bed. His eyes were almost level with her torso, and he looked at her curiously.

"Show me?" He whispered hesitantly.

"Ok, I'll go and get it."

"No, I mean _show me_." He didn't wait for her to work out what he was talking about, and lifted the hem of her shirt slightly to peek below it. He gasped as he saw what he was looking for, inching the material up slightly. His long, tanned fingers found their way to their destination as he placed a hand on her bare stomach.

He took a moment to look up at her face, his eyes glittering again with unshed tears.

"You're having my baby." He said it again, although this time it was less matter of fact, more awe-filled, and with a sense of wonder.

She couldn't speak. His hands were on her skin, making trails over the small bump. He brought his lips to the centre of it, just above her belly button, before he kissed the skin gently. She felt the entirety of her abdomen clench with wild need for him at that, and tried not to make it apparent that she was squeezing her thighs together to dispel the tension. It seriously wasn't fair of him to turn up looking like he did and kissing sensitive parts of her like this when she had hormones racing round her body. She had been having to satisfy herself with memories of their time together in Newport, combined with the many fantasies she had concocted over the years about them. She hadn't considered this one before, and she squirmed again as his lips made contact with her stomach time and time again.

His possessive streak was coming to the fore, and he continued to caress the taut skin while still peppering it with kisses. She let him, trying desperately not to jump him when he did it. He made her staggering need worse when he lifted her top further, exposing her growing breasts, and extremely unglamorous sports bra. It was the only one which she could wear comfortably, and she flushed with embarrassment as he pulled the top over her head.

"I'm having _our_ baby" she corrected him with a small grin, noting that he seemed a little more comfortable now that she was wearing less.

"Mmmm" he seemed satisfied with the statement as he continued. He broke away from his kisses to look up at her with such intensity that she almost had to look away.

"You should have told me before now."

"I know. I wanted to. But I had to get my head round it first, and then you were gone. I've been waiting out for you to get back."

He remained sitting at eye level with her torso, placing his hands on either side of her waist, to pull her towards him again. She could feel his warm breath against her bare skin again and she simmered quietly, pulse racing at the contact.

"Molly?" he began, before gently kissing her stomach once more, drawing the tip of his tongue very slightly over the area as he tasted her skin.

"Yes" she stuttered as he moved his way up, pulling her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently through the material of her bra.

He pulled away to look at her, leaving her moaning, before standing up.

"I think we'd better get out of here." He raised an eyebrow as he pulled the most serious of expressions.

"Why?"

He pulled her closer to him in response. She felt his hardness press against her and giggled.

His voice was low and promising as he whispered in her ear. "That's why."

"Didn't realise you had a thing for pregnant women."

"I don't. I've got a thing for pregnant Molly. And I really need to not be in a public place with you right now. I've got half a day before I need to leave again, and I intend to make full use of it."

"I'm in the middle of a shift!"

"Pull a sickie" he growled as he pulled her closer to him, nuzzling on her breast again.

"I can't do that."

He said nothing in response, simply standing and pulling her mouth towards his in desperation. He kissed her with such intensity, tongues fighting and teeth clashing, that she couldn't focus on anything but the growing wetness between her legs anymore.

She had no resistance left, and she pulled away breathlessly, staring at him.

"Well?" He asked, an eyebrow raised again.

"Sickie it is." She panted as she pulled him towards her once more.

* * *

**AN. Hi! It's been a while! Real life has not been good to me this week, so sorry for the lack of updates. Sick kids and sick me = not much writing time. Bear with me, I'll finish this eventually! **

**Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for the ongoing support and lovely comments you've given this story.**

**Song was Small Bump by Ed Sheeran.**


	13. Chapter 13: To Build a Home

As they entered the front door of the small flat together, Molly was aware that it was the first time he had seen where she lived. She had spent so much time in this place thinking of him that it felt weird to know that this was the first time he would set foot in the place. She suddenly remembered the state it was left in when she ran out in a hurry that morning. As they walked towards her room, she shooed him out of the way so that she could shove some of her chaotically organised belongings out of view.

He watched with a furrowed brow as she gathered some stray items in a heap. Her hands were shaking with nervous energy, and he was aware of how uncomfortable she appeared to feel with him in her territory. It struck him that they had never done this. She had never taken him into her own environment before. In all the time he had known her, the only times they had spent alone together outwith the confines of army life were in Newport and in his parents house in Bath. They would have to remedy that, he mused internally, still watching as she tidied.

He approached quietly from behind as she balanced a pile of magazines on top of some assembled textbooks. He placed his hands on her arms, stilling them as he whispered in her ear.

"I didn't come to inspect your flat, you know."

She didn't turn round like he had expected, instead gazing straight ahead, finding something in front of her extremely interesting. Her response was firm but flirtatious.

"Well, why did you come then?"

"Mmm, let's see." He moved his grip to her shoulders before physically turning her around to face him. "You're having my baby. It's quite a momentous day. I feel like marking the occasion."

She gazed up at him, trying to suppress a smirk. "And how would you like to do that, exactly?"

His serious tone remained, and she played along with it. "Well. I was thinking about that. I _would_ propose a toast, but, you being pregnant, you can't drink."

Her face was thoughtful as she pretended to give it some thought. "Well that's the end of that suggestion."

"Well, don't give up that easily Molly. We need to apply our military training to find a solution to this quandary." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with an open hand, the stubble scratching his palm. "How else could we possibly celebrate?"

Molly sighed playfully, hands on hips. "It's a toughie."

"I know!" He grinned widely. "Luckily I seem to remember something that you like, that doesn't involve booze. And even luckier, it's something that I like too!" He moved towards her slowly, like an animal stalking its prey.

A wide smile decorated her face. "Now what are the odds of that?!"

He continued to match her playful grin as he moved, reaching her as he closed the space between them. "I guess it's just lucky we have some interests in common."

"Right. And what exactly would those common interests be?" She cleared her throat as he began to fumble with the hem of her top, gathering the material in his hands, then pulling it up and over her head before she had a chance to object. He was impatient to see her petite bump again, desperate to once more see solid proof of the child she was carrying. His hands met her bare tummy once more, long fingers trailing over the skin with ease.

"All will become clear Molly. I need to achieve my first objective, and the rest should hopefully explain itself." He pushed her back on the bed gently before tugging at the waistband of her trousers, peeling them down her legs impatiently as she giggled.

"First objective?" She enquired, knowing full well what that objective was, and letting him proceed. Her trousers were soon in a forgotten heap on the floor, and he pulled on her hands with his so that she was now in a sitting position.

The look of sheer concentration on his face as he attempted to negotiate the clasp of the bulky sports bra she wore was enough to send her into a fit of giggles. "Well it was to get you naked, but I'd be more than fucking happy just to get rid of this thing."

She took pity on him, nibbling on her lower lip nervously as she unclasped the item, allowing her growing chest to be exposed fully to him as the straps fell off her shoulders and onto the bed. Pregnancy had transformed her already full breasts into two extremely sensitive mounds that she could hardly bear to touch at the best of times. She wasn't quite sure how this was going to work.

He picked up on her nervousness and placed a light touch on them, fingers barely even brushing against her skin as he caressed the further evidence of the changes in her body. He moved his mouth closer, and she shivered as she felt his hot breath against her already overheating skin. He had left her on the bed in nothing but a pair of oversized cotton knickers. If she'd known how today was going to pan out, she really would have considered the underwear situation more fully. Still, she was resourceful and would work with what she had. She wouldn't be wearing them for long anyway.

She moaned lightly as his lips trailed along her chest with the faintest of touches. His tongue darted from his lips and caught the puckered skin as she yelped at the sensation. He watched her carefully, trying to determine if he had made her uncomfortable.

"Sorry" she breathed the apology. "They're a bit sensitive at the minute."

"Don't be sorry" he continued, this time returning to using his fingers to very lightly brush the skin and make up for his heavy touch. He then launched the gentlest of brief kisses on the sensitive area, and she responded warmly to it, arching her back with approval and gripping his hair with her hands.

"I've missed you so much." She choked out the words, taking them both by surprise at the sob that escaped her at the same time.

He rested his cheek on her stomach for a moment, before continuing to trail a path of kisses along her abdomen, keeping his eyes firmly on hers as he moved lower and lower.

As he reached the elastic around her hips, he raised his eyes once more to her, and she shivered at the depth of the look he gave her.

It felt like he was asking permission; like he was waiting for her to grant access. She shifted back, lying on the bed to allow him easier entry, answering his question without words. His mouth rested on the damp material that still covered her, his warm breath warming her already overheated core before he covered the material with his mouth, causing her to arch her back once more in surprise at the sensations she was already feeling. He licked the outside of the damp material, knowing how ready she was for him, and having to remind himself to slow down before he pinned her to the bed and rushed things. She could only mutter her approval, no words currently capable of forming.

He hooked a thumb under each side of the material, lowering it from her as she squirmed on the bed while he removed the garment from her body. She lay, completely naked, on the mattress, flushed with a mixture of self consciousness and intense desire, watching him as he weighed up his next move.

He came to lay on the bed next to her, leaning on his side as he watched her stretch out and watch him with hooded eyes. He was still fully clothed, and she realised that she would need to remedy the inequity. The prospect of a naked Charles wasn't one she wanted to waste time thinking about, not when she could have him laid out in front of her. She kneeled on the bed beside him and kissed him lazily as she pulled the camouflage from his body, taking time to appreciate the skin that came into view. He had tan lines on from his time on the prairie, and she traced along them with her fingernails, marking the border where the white skin met his tanned arms.

As she pulled his top half from him, he tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted, tracing the pale pink scar tissue on his abdomen with her index finger, before delivering a kiss to the skin there. He shivered at that, and tried to pull her back towards head height, but she continued at his middle, running her fingers along the deep scar, with the dark hairs on his stomach bristling as she brushed past them. His war wound was accompanied by another small scar, and she realised it must have been from his kidney donation to Sam. She wondered how on earth she could have missed it in Newport. Although this wasn't like that night, where everything had rushed by in a frenzy, both of them devouring each other as though it was the last time they would be allowed to touch. This was slow and cautious; a rediscovery.

She had returned to his scar from Afghan; a reminder of what they had been through. "Does it still hurt?"

He regarded her for a minute, before nodding and answering her honestly. "Sometimes. It's worse in cold weather. Doesn't hurt as much as my leg does sometimes."

With that she turned her attention to his bottom half, fumbling with his waistband before pulling the trousers and underwear down. She found the accompanying scar on his leg and inspected it fully before she came to sit on the bed beside him.

"What are you doing?" He whispered as her eyes trailed over the lean body stretched out in front of her.

"Looking at you. I didn't think I would get to again."

He sighed as she moved towards him again, trailing kisses against the stubble on his chin, and suppressing a giggle when the days old growth tickled her. "I made a right mess of the last few years."

"You ain't the only one who did that." She cleared her throat before continuing. "In your letter...-"

"What about it?"

"You said sorry for giving up"

"Yes"

"I'm sorry too. I didn't just give up. I ran in the opposite direction." She placed a knee on either side of his body, before straddling him, then leaning forward to hug him. He embraced her completely, and she felt herself enveloped in his arms as she rested on top of him.

"No more running" she confirmed, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"No more running" he echoed.

She leaned down to grip his hardness in her hand, hearing a sharp intake of breath in her ear as she tightened her grip. His whole body tensed underneath her as she increased the pace of her strokes.

His hand found hers as he stilled it, a low growl finding her ear. "If you don't stop doing that, this is going to get very embarrassing in a minute."

She laughed briefly at his warning tone, before upping the ante as she lowered herself onto him, circling her hips as she took his full length inside of her. He groaned with something; she wasn't sure it it was lust, relief or despair, and she watched as his eyes slammed shut and he bit his lower lip with anticipation.

She grabbed his hands with hers, interlinking their fingers as she moved his hands to above his head. She had full control over him, and realised it was the first time it had happened. He was a man who always took charge in the bedroom, and didn't give up that role willingly. This was the first time he had surrendered it, and she wondered how far she could push it before he took over.

She moved on top of him, finding a slow, languid rhythm that ensured he was hitting the right spot inside of her. He impatiently tugged at the outside of her thighs, willing her to speed up, but she resisted, keeping the perfect pace she had established. His hips began to buck as he made every attempt to speed up, but she wouldn't allow it.

"Molly?" he groaned from beneath her.

"Yes" a growl escaped from the back of her throat as her inner walls trembled from the friction in exactly the right place.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Nope. I kind of need you alive for this." She muttered as her eyes began to glaze over, and he quickly realised that she was almost lost to him. Her cheeks flushed, and the breath hitched in her chest as she continued to rotate her hips, fully in control of the speed at which they moved. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she rocked back and forth, in control of her own pleasure, tiny moans beginning to escape from her lips. It was causing him to lose control, and he felt her walls begin to clench around him, taking him with her as she moved. He loosened a hand from her hold and brought it to her core, circling her enlarged clitoris with the pad of his thumb.

She moaned with surprise, eyes flying open at the unexpected contact. A noise escaped her mouth as she felt a spasm of pure pleasure erupt in her lower abdomen, muscles contracting as she tumbled over the edge. She shuddered on top of him as she continued to feel a warmth spread through her body, radiating from her centre. Her loss of control allowed him to grip her hips and move her at the speed he needed, feeling himself tense as the blood pooled at his groin. Her walls were still contracting around him as a deep moan released from his throat, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of relief mixed with pleasure as he released inside of her.

* * *

They lay outstretched on the bed, Charles beginning to watch the clock as he calculated exactly when he would need to leave. He had less than an hour before he would need to head back to the hospital and then travel back to the remote base where he had been stationed for the last few weeks. Time had passed unbelievably quickly from the minute he had seen Molly, and he briefly considered just how much trouble it would cause if he didn't head back tonight. However wonderful it might be to spend the night here, he couldn't disregard the job he still had; to bring the training exercise to an end and bring over 100 men back from the prairie. He couldn't ignore that. Not without some sort of repercussion. He grudgingly accepted that he would indeed need to move soon.

Molly was fast asleep in his arms, spent from their afternoon activities and wrapped around his body. He hadn't slept a wink, too busy running through everything that had happened. He still had difficulty getting his head round the fact that he was going to be a father again, almost 12 years after Sam was born. That brought him round to thinking of his son. They hadn't parted on ideal terms, Sam still confused and emotional after witnessing the fallout from his and Rebecca's shouting match in the hospital corridor. It wasn't easy at 11 years old to deal with the prospect of warring parents, and he tried not to picture the poison which would no doubt be poured into Sam's ear from his mother, not least when she found out that Molly was pregnant, and then counted back the dates. He could have sworn he felt his stomach turn over at the thought of it. The prospect of those difficulties were unpleasant, but he was quickly coming to realise that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Molly was having his baby. Molly was having their baby. The woman he had locked away in his heart years ago and convinced himself that he had lost forever was having his child. He thought Lady Luck had deserted him, but it turned out that she was there all along. He grinned widely as he tightened his hold on the sleeping creature sprawled over the top of him.

"What you thinkin' about?" She questioned him from under a thick layer of hair spread out on his chest.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

She raised her head to look at him with interest. "Try me"

"I'd given up hope. Even just a few months ago, I had nothing left except the prospect of years of hopelessness ahead of me. I was so lonely Molly."

Her eyes filled with tears listening to the sense of pain that emitted from him. "So was I", she confessed.

He smiled, the sense of despair lifting. "But now, everything's changed. And we're going to have a baby."

"We really are. I'm shitting myself."

"You don't need to. It'll be perfect, you'll see."

"I don't do perfect. Told you that years ago."

He tightened his hold around her, kissing the top of her head affectionately. "And I told you back then that you did. I can't wait. When do you want to go home? I'm due to be out here till the end of the year, but if you want us to go back before that, I can speak to the Lieutenant Colonel.."

She pulled away from his embrace to look at his face properly. "What do you mean, home. I am home."

"I mean home, home! England. Obviously we'll need to have a think about where we're going to live. I've just taken a lease of a flat near Catterick. I'm not sure it'll be big enough for the four of us though."

"The four of us?" She looked astonished at the pace the conversation was moving, but he was too excitedly planning for the future that he didn't register it yet.

"Yes. Me, you, the baby and Sam. Obviously Sam won't be there all the time, but Rebecca and I have joint custody.." He trailed off as she pulled further away from him and he began to register how white her features had become.

"So let me get this straight. You expect me to pack up my life here, give up my job and my friends, and come and trail about after you in bleedin' Catterick?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it yet, but yes. What else are we going to do?"

She shook her head as she stared at the foot of the bed, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't believe this."

"Believe what Molly? We can't just hide out in bloody Canada for the rest of our lives. You've been doing that long enough."

"I've been doing what?!"

He regretted it before the words even left his lips,but he couldn't help it. "Hiding out here."

"Great. It only took you all of half an hour to mention it after I apologised for that." Her voice was increasing in volume and anger, and he realised, far too late, that he should have approached this conversation in a totally different manner.

She jumped from the bed and paced the floor, hurriedly pulling a t-shirt and pair of jeans from her drawer, groaning when she realised that the zip on her jeans was resolutely not going to be raised past her bump. She discarded them with a stroppy mutter, and he willed himself with everything in him not to snigger and anger her more.

"Molly. Come back to bed."

"No!" She stared at him, meeting his troubled gaze. "I won't come back to bed for 'Captain shouty face', oh no sorry, 'Major shouty face' to tell me what I'm doing with the rest of my life. You need to go back anyway." She trailed through her drawer, looking for a pair of trousers that might actually fit her.

"I'm not going back with you in this mood."

She met his gaze again, face determined. "I'm not in a mood"

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow and tried to suppress a snigger.

"Yes, really. And stop fucking smirking."

"Molly." He stood from the bed, grabbing her hands in his. "No more running, remember? And no more giving up from me. We'll work it out. All I want is for you to be happy."

She suddenly realised the error of her ways, that he wasn't deliberately trying to upset her. "I'm sorry" she whispered, gazing up at him with teary eyes.

"I'm sorry too. I got carried away. We've got time to work things out. Ok?"

"Ok"

"Good. Because I've got another half hour. And I do like to make efficient use of my time." He pressed his naked body against her.

She giggled as he pulled her back to the bed, squealing as he tickled and launched her on the mattress underneath him.

They had each other. The rest would fall into place eventually.

**AN. This chapter has been sitting half written for quite some time. I've rewritten, I've done an alternative, less smutty version, and I've come to the conclusion that this is the best it's going to be, despite my sense of dissatisfaction! I know where I want to be by the end of this story, but I must confess that I'm finding it hard going to complete it at the minute. I'm going to take a little break, and hope that the ability to actually finish it returns to me! Thanks for the supportive comments, they are pretty much the reason that I am trying to persist through what is proving to be a lengthy writers block. I am hoping that a break will remind me that I usually love doing this! **

**Song was To Build a Home, by Cinematic Orchestra.**


	14. Chapter 14: Songbird

_**1st September 2018**_

Molly sat in the sun on the warm bench outside the hospital, basking in the warm rays that shone down on her. Totally comfortable in her cross-legged position, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the sensation that currently fluttered deep in her abdomen.

She sought out the comfort of the bench when she first felt the sensation, almost like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in her stomach. At first she was overtaken by a sense of panic; this was different, something might be wrong. When she realised that everything was completely right, and that she was actually feeling the baby somersaulting inside of her, she had to sit down and appreciate the sensation, and marvel silently at the changes that were going on inside of her body.

As the early evening sun continued to warm her, and the sensation continued, she placed a hand on her stomach and grinned, whispering affectionately under her breath. "This is new. You're having a party in there."

"Talking to yourself now Dawesy are ya?" A voice interrupted her from behind. She whipped her head around, knowing exactly who it was, grinning widely with recognition at the familiar accent.

"You're back!"

"Yep. Just back. Thought I'd nab you to myself for a bit before the Bossman comes and finds ya."

She stayed silent, but couldn't keep the smile from her face. He moved to the front of the bench and nudged her shoulder with his own as he took a seat next to her.

"I'm guessing the reason he's had a shit eating grin on his face, as well as letting us lot away with murder for the last week is cos you two have finally made up?"

"You could say that" she tried not to be cryptic, but was unsure of how much to say without speaking to Charles first. They hadn't really agreed on a strategy for dealing with their relationship yet, and she didn't want to overstep the mark before they had.

She sighed at Brains' curious look, taking his arm in hers before she looked up nervously at him. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

He sighed, knowing that she didn't have to ask the question. "You know fine well I won't. Haven't during the last four years have I?"

"True enough." She squeezed his arm tightly. "You're a proper mate, you know that?"

He chuckled lightly at the statement. "You weren't saying that in Newport!"

"Yeah well, things have changed since then."

"So I see" he observed, motioning his head towards her rounded stomach, trying not to look too shocked. Her uniform was no longer disguising her condition, her secret had been announced to her colleagues a few days ago now.

"I was wondering if you'd notice" she wrinkled her nose with amusement as he studied her bump with interest.

"Dawesy, you forget I've got two sisters and four nephews. Plus, I do have eyes and ears - you were talking to your belly when I spotted you from over there. Congratulations." He released his arm from her grasp, using it to pull her towards him in an affectionate hug, and she leaned her head on his shoulder gratefully. "What's he sayin' about it?"

"He's happy. It's a right old mess for us to try and work out, but he's happy."

"He fucking better be, else he'll have the rest of us to deal with."

"Alright soldier, stand down!" She laughed at the protective tone he adopted. She knew he would protect her until the day she died, and vice versa. The bonds which existed between her and the rest of the boys from 2 section couldn't be broken by time or distance. They didn't have to see each other or even speak regularly to know that was the case. Of the old section, only Molly and Charles, together with Brains, Fingers and Kinders remained in the army; Kinders stationed with a new company and currently on tour in Syria. Since the fateful day of Smurf's funeral, a new closeness existed between Molly and Brains. Neither would admit it, but they both drew comfort from the fact that the other made them feel closer in some way to their fallen colleague.

They sat in silence for some time, Molly's head still resting on his shoulder before he heard a light giggle erupt from her.

"What's so funny?"

"Just thinking. Julia's gonna be finished her shift soon. You should hang about, say hi."

"That'd be handy."

"Handy for what?"

"Cos when she knocks me out, I'll be right beside the hospital. Won't have to go far for a doctor."

Molly continued to laugh. "She is a bloody doctor! And she won't knock you out. Anyway, why are you so scared of her? You're a soldier, remember?"

"Yep, and I'd rather take on 20 Taliban than her."

Molly's grin lit up her face. "You like her. I can tell."

Brains screwed his face up with an attempt at indifference. "You can tell fuck all mate. Must be your hormones." His statement was rewarded with a punch on the arm, and he rubbed it theatrically.

"Oi, less of that. You do though. You go all shy when I mention her."

He continued to rub his arm while shaking his head at Molly's attempts to matchmake. "Yeah, that's cos me balls shrivel up with fright every time you mention her."

"You should ask her out."

"I don't have a death wish, cheers." He was quieter now, and Molly knew she had read the situation correctly.

"She likes you too."

"Really? I'd friggin hate to see how she acted if she couldn't stand me."

"She's a character."

"She's a bitch."

Molly shook her head with frustration. "You wouldn't say that if she was a fella. Then she'd be a boss. Cos she's a woman, she's just a bitch."

"I'd like to think we wouldn't be havin' this conversation if she was a fella!

"I suppose that's right enough."

They fell again into silence, enjoying the last of the warm sun before it fell. Neither noticed Charles standing behind them, watching, but not hearing their easy conversation as they sat together on the bench.

As he approached the two sitting figures, he tried his very hardest not to let the jealousy currently simmering within him develop into anything further. He knew that they were simply close; he knew there were no feelings involved beyond friendship, but it nevertheless rankled with him to see her so close to somebody else, both in physical, and emotional terms. Her head still rested on Brains' shoulder as they looked into the distance.

"He cleared his throat behind them as he crouched down, grabbing the back of the bench for support so that his head was level with Molly's.

"Room for another?" He enquired, trying not to let his possessiveness take hold.

She grinned widely on hearing his voice, but didn't yet spin round. Instead, Brains turned, and stood as soon as he recognised the look on his Boss' face. He knew when he was no longer needed. He pointed to his now vacant seat.

"I'll leave you two to it. Later Molls." He ruffled her hair as he departed. "Bossman" he greeted Charles as he began to walk away from the hospital grounds.

Before he was out of earshot, Molly yelled at his retreating form "You should go and do what I said. Nothing ventured and all that." She laughed as Brains turned around and looked at her, then shook his head, before he seemingly thought again and moved in the opposite direction, heading into the hospital.

"Should I ask?" Charles ventured.

"Julia. I might have stuck my oar in."

"Ah" he nodded in understanding before he pulled Molly into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed as she burrowed into his chest.

"Ain't this a bit public? Anyone could see us." She tried to look around to check there wasn't anybody that would recognise them, but he tipped her chin back towards his body. His response to her concern was simple and truthful. "I don't care. I missed you."

She protested despite feeling exactly the same. "I only saw you a few days ago!"

"Mm. A few days is a long time when you're not there." He brought his hand to her stomach, rubbing gently, as well as feeling how much she'd expanded in just under a week. "How are you?" He whispered into her hair, his nose reacquainting itself with the comforting scent of her shampoo.

"I'm good. I felt her move today. First time" She stated proudly. Charles pulled his head away to look at her, and felt his heart swell from the sheer pride painted on her face at that simple fact.

"Her?"

"Yeah. Well, I dunno for sure, but calling her 'it' feels weird."

"You think she's a girl?" He tightened his hold on her again, imagining a mini Molly to contend with. He would need to buy a shotgun for his daughter's teenage years, he realised with equal shades of amusement and horror. Having been a teenage boy himself, there was no way on god's earth he would let any of them near any daughter of his.

"I reckon she is."

He used his hand again to tip her chin towards his face, tracing her features with his index finger. She remained on his lap, running her fingers through the long curls on his head. They sat for a while, watching each other. Eventually, Molly could hold out no longer and turned around further in his lap as she began to drop light kisses along his jawline; soft, feather like kisses that made little impact on the skin, but were filled with plenty of promise.

"I've got a bit of a problem" she whispered in his ear.

He chuckled, with a feeling that he knew exactly what it was from the nature of her kisses. He wondered how he could read her like a book at times, yet at other moments she was a complete mass of contradictions to him. "What's the problem Dawesy?"

She gazed at him before she looked down, embarrassed for a brief moment by her forwardness.

"I need you. The last few days have been...difficult." She was talking about one thing only. He could tell by the way her pupils dilated when he stroked her stomach with his hands, then moved them round to rub her back and shoulders, and the way her breathing altered and her back arched as he did it. "I thought I'd never want to do it again when I was puking my guts up all day long. Now I can't concentrate on anything else."

He grinned, and it restored his face to the most carefree she had seen it in a long time. "That's not a problem. That's very far from a problem."

"Not when it's all I can think about! Think it's my hormones. I'm glad you're back, put it that way."

He bit back a smirk, knowing that he should treat this as a serious issue given her current capacity for mood swings. "Well then. I feel it's my duty to take care of your problem." He mock saluted before he stood from the bench with her still in his arms, carefully swinging her into a carry position.

She laughed uproariously as he marched her from their sitting place, keeping her in his arms, as though she was about to be carried over a threshold. "Where are you taking me?!" She breathed between giggles, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Home, you insatiable woman! I've got problems to solve!" He adopted the sternest of faces as he proceeded, causing her to erupt in even more laughter as they continued, both oblivious to the curious gazes of the scattered onlookers on the grounds of the hospital.

* * *

Later that night, with darkness long since filling the sky in place of the sun, they lay in Molly's bed, with her problem now more than resolved. They didn't sleep as they held each other in the dark, enjoying the fact that neither of them had any place to be except right there in each other's arms.

The moonlight streamed in the open window, with the unusually stifling late summer heat still evident despite the fact that night had fallen. The heat meant that only a thin sheet was needed to cover them. Charles lay behind Molly as he spooned her, tracing circles on the bare arm that lay closest to him before dropping a kiss on her shoulder. She laughed lightly at the tickling sensation, letting him know that she wasn't asleep. He took the opportunity and moved his hand forward, placing it firmly on her swollen stomach, fully intending to inch it lower and lower until he reached his destination. He was stopped in his tracks when he felt it at the same time as he heard her gasp in surprise; a rippling motion underneath her skin.

"There she is" Molly whispered.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he realised just what he was feeling, and he closed his eyes to try and stop them. He buried his head in her hair and kept his hand firmly in place, Molly's hand falling on top of it, linking their fingers as they felt the movements together. He felt the sad, despondent moments of the last few years begin to wash away as he silently thanked his lucky stars that he was here to appreciate this moment. It was magical to him. He had come so close to losing everything that mattered to him; Molly and Sam. It finally felt as though everything was falling into place.

The moment was cut short as the silence in the flat was suddenly shattered by the front door opening and slamming shut. Molly turned her head round to look at Charles, and whispered "Julia's back" by way of explanation.

He nodded with quiet understanding, and they relaxed back into their previous comfortable position, hands on her stomach, when they both heard the unmistakable noise of something clattering against the wall in the hallway, followed by giggling and staggering.

"Jesus, she must have been out on the piss." Molly muttered. It was only when they heard the second voice; a recognisable scouse accent that they both looked at each other in complete and utter amusement, trying not to laugh out loud. The amusement soon turned to dismay when they heard the passionate sounds which began to emanate from the hallway.

Molly buried her head in the pillow, mortified as she tried to ignore what was so obviously going on in her hallway. She lifted her head slowly, her and Charles looking at each other in horror when they heard grunting and panting as well as something hitting the wall regularly.

"Oh fuck. Should we say something, let them know we're here?" Charles said under his breath, only loud enough for Molly to hear.

"No!" She was insistent. "Then they'll know we heard everything!"

"They're doing it in the fucking hallway, they must have known it was a possibility." His whispers were more urgent now. They heard the noises tail off before Julia's bedroom door slammed shut, accompanied by the sound of laughter.

Molly and Charles looked at each other, the absurdity of the situation suddenly becoming clear. Tears streamed from Molly's eyes as she tried to laugh quietly, whilst Charles put a warning finger over her mouth to try and quieten her.

"Sshhhhhh. I'm his boss Molly. He can't know I'm here, listening to him shagging in a hallway in the middle of the night." With that statement, Charles too began to laugh, a deep rumbling that he couldn't contain, his shoulders shaking violently. It was utterly ridiculous, but when he was in Molly's arms, he couldn't find it within himself to take anything else seriously. She was what mattered to him; if she was happy then so was he. Somewhere deep down he registered just how dangerous it was to tie his emotions so intricately to somebody else, but he ignored it and carried on.

They both continued the struggle to contain their laughter to a low volume, with tears rolling down their cheeks. He buried his face in the soft skin of her back, before deciding to shut them both up using a new tactic. He turned her around and crashed his mouth to hers, ending the near hysterical laughter almost immediately as her body responded to him, arching towards his hands like a piece of metal to a magnet. He broke off the kiss as it became ever more heated, moving her so that she lay flat on the bed. He grinned as he issued his warning.

"You need to keep quiet" he threatened, before he began to kiss her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, moving down ever so slowly, enough to let her know where he was headed. She gasped with undisguised passion, also recognising at that particular moment that he was so much more than just the Captain that she had fallen for in her first tour and never got over. He was her best friend, her lover, and her other half. She had it so bad for this man that she didn't think she would recover if this was to end. She hoped to god she would never have to deal with losing him.

* * *

**AN. Sorry it's been a while! I've been having a bit of a break from writing but a little inspiration popped up in my brain for the first time in a while this morning and wouldn't leave me alone! Hope this was ok, and thanks to the kind people who have been sending encouraging words via reviews, pm's and mumsnet - you are all very lovely. Thanks also to the ff writers, who have been feeding my OG obsession with their amazing stories. J xx**

**Song was Songbird, by Oasis**


	15. Chapter 15: This Woman's Work

**AN. A quick reminder before anybody reads this update. Please bear in mind what I promised at the beginning of this story - I don't do unhappy endings!**

* * *

_**5th October 2018**_

Charles' feet pounded the ground beneath him as he sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him towards his destination. Room 402. Room 402. _Where the fuck is room 402? _He scanned the numbers on the doors as they appeared and then disappeared before him.

435

442

They weren't in any order. _Why aren't they in any fucking order?!_ His throat felt dry from panic. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he rushed forward.

He didn't have to wait to see the correct number appear, catching sight of the red hair from a distance out of the corner of his eye. She sat on the floor beside the door to room 402, knees raised to her chest, and head in her hands. As he took in the sight, it felt like his legs could no longer carry him. He resisted the urge to vomit right there in the corridor, swallowing back the gag that surfaced.

"Where is she?"

Julia lifted her head towards him at the sound of his voice, her mask of professional indifference quickly replacing the private despair he knew he had seen in her face as he approached. She stood up quickly, looking him directly in the eye.

"_Where is she?" _He repeated, with more force than before. "Is she in there?"

Julia drew in a deep breath. "I need a word. Before you go in, I need a word." It was only when she was fully standing that he noticed the cluster of blood stains on her uniform.

"Why do you have blood on you? Why the fuck do you have blood on you Julia?!" He panicked at the sight, and tried to rush past her to grab the door handle.

Julia's blue eyes simmered with something he didn't recognise, and she grabbed his arm forcefully before he could get to the handle. Her tone was cold and hard, unwilling to waver. "You listen to me. You have a job here. You will stand out here and you will listen to me. If you want her to be ok, you will do every single thing that I'm about to tell you. Understand?"

She spoke with no less authority than the most formidable characters he had ever dealt with in the army, and he nodded as she continued. "She collapsed when she was on a shift this morning. She hit her head when she fell, which is why I have blood on me. That's not the problem. The head wound is superficial. It's been stitched up already"

He let out a deep breath. What's the problem then?"

"She's having contractions. They started off sporadically, but they've become more regular over the last hour. She's in a lot of pain, and she's panicking."

He couldn't contain himself any longer. "Let me see her." He tried again to dodge past Julia as she guarded the door handle.

"I'm. Not. Finished." She stated, her tone continuing to warn him off. Charles was silent, so she continued.

"Obstetrics are keeping her under constant observation. If the contractions get much worse, they're going to have to stop them medically."

He ran his hands through his hair, pacing the width of the corridor. "Why haven't they done that already?"

"The drug they use to do it is called Terbutaline. It isn't one that you want to use unless it's completely unavoidable. It's not formally approved for use this early in pregnancy, and it's potentially harmful to Molly's and the baby's heart."

_Fuck. This was a disaster._ "And if they don't use it? If they hold off?"

"She's in premature labour at 21 weeks pregnant." Her next words were a quiet addition, but took the legs from him nevertheless. "The baby isn't viable yet."

He choked out a sob as he repeated the horrendous words "not viable?"

"I'm sorry, that sounds harsher than it's intended. She looked at him again and paused, trying to pick her words more carefully, before realising that there was no other way. "Simply put, if Molly is allowed to continue in labour for much longer without it either stopping naturally, or some sort of intervention, it's extremely unlikely that the baby will survive." Julia tried her utmost to ignore the sob she felt rise in her own chest as she watched Charles slump against the wall in despair. "Listen to me. There's a chance that the contractions might stop on their own. We're monitoring the baby carefully and there are no signs of any distress yet. That's a good sign. But we only have a limited time for labour to stop naturally before they will have no choice but to go in and administer the drug."

"The one that could potentially harm both of them?"

"Yes"

He shook his head, lines of worry decorating his forehead. "What do I do? You told me to do what you say. What are you telling me to do?"

"She needs to calm down. I need you to go in there and be completely calm. Do anything, say anything you need to, to calm her down. If she does that, the contractions might stop on their own. If not, we've got no choice but to sedate her and then use the Terbutaline to try and stop the contractions."

He understood what he needed to do. "Let me in."

She sighed, but there was an undercurrent of frustration to it. "Wait a minute, ok. You need to be completely calm yourself, or else she'll panic even more. Do not give her any reason to worry, alright? Convince her that the sky's green if it means that she calms down."

He was becoming more frustrated the longer he waited outside the door, and he glared at her, confirming through gritted teeth. "Yes Julia. I can do it."

She eyed him warily, unsure of whether to proceed. "One more thing before you go in."

"What now?!"

The tone of petulance wasn't lost on Julia and she met his gaze as she continued. "Her next of kin is down in her medical records as her mum. The minute she loses consciousness in there, she hands over all medical decisions to her next of kin. Not you. That enough of an incentive for you to calm her down?"

Charles leaned closer. "I have no idea what you think of me." He shook his head. "Actually. I don't give a fuck what you think of me. But if you ever ask me that again, or question whether I need an incentive to help the woman I love, I swear I'll make you regret it."

Encouraged by the passion in his eyes, Julia felt herself convinced that this was the right course of action. She moved out of the way and whispered a final warning to him.

"That girl in there means the world to me. Don't you dare fuck this up." He looked into her eyes and finally realised that they were on the exact same page. They were both willing to do anything it took to ensure that Molly was safe and well. He grabbed her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, and she shook the involuntary tears that began to gather in the corner of her eyes.

"I won't fuck it up. I promise."

She nodded and surrendered control of the door to him, hoping to god that he was right. Nothing else had worked. This was the last roll of the dice.

* * *

He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him when he entered the room. Molly lay curled in a foetal position on the bed, wrapped in a hospital gown that was clearly much too big for her. She had a white bandage on her forehead, and all manner of monitors strapped to her, including a thick black band wrapped around her stomach. She looked even tinier than usual. The room was filled with a noise coming from one of the machines; a steady heartbeat. He had no idea whether it belonged to Molly or the baby, but it was comforting nonetheless.

Molly jumped at the sound of the door opening and let out a sob as she realised the identity of just who was walking in. A nurse was finishing her observations, and patted Molly's hand, telling her she would be back in ten minutes, before nodding at Charles as she walked out the door.

"Where have you been?" She choked from the bed, red and swollen eyes watching him.

He rushed towards the bed, sitting on the edge as he debated whether or not he could pull her into a hug with all of the monitors attached to her. It didn't take long for him to decide that he absolutely had to. He pulled her towards him, taking comfort in the fact that she still felt the same, smelled the same. The rug hadn't been completely pulled out from under him.

"I'm so sorry, I was out on the training ground. I got here as soon as I got Julia's message."

She pulled from the hug to cast her eyes downwards, avoiding his gaze. The red rims of her eyes told him that she had been crying for far too long. She was pale and listless, not to mention panicky.

"I've fucked it all up. She's not gonna make it, and it's all my fault." She couldn't look at him, focusing instead on her hands as she wrung them together. He sighed, knowing that Molly would always find a way to blame herself in this situation. He grabbed her hands and made sure that she was looking at him before he spoke. "She is going to make it. You know why? Because she's got you and me. And we're going to lie here, and stay calm. And it'll all be fine." He watched the doubt in her face. "I promise."

He pulled his camouflage jacket and boots off, leaving him in just a t-shirt and combats. He made his way back to the bed, smiling at Molly, despite the fact that he didn't feel at all like smiling right now. He felt like crumpling into a heap and screaming at the unfairness of the world, but this wasn't the time or the place for his self-pity.

Charles lay down beside her on the bed and pulled her body towards his as they fell into their now customary position to fall asleep. He lay behind her, hands automatically reaching forward for her stomach as she sighed with what sounded like relief. He could feel her relax into the contours of his body as he lay on the hospital bed beside her, and was suddenly filled with the confidence that he had a fighting chance to do something to help.

That confidence was eroded by the fact that he could now hear and feel the sobs falling from Molly, growing in volume and intensity as her body was wracked with emotions.

"Shhhh. Molly. It's going to be fine. Please don't cry."

"It's not gonna be fine. It's too early for her to come. She.." Charles had no idea what the rest of the sentence was meant to sound like as Molly's quivering chin took over and refrained from letting her say anything further. He felt the entirety of her stomach harden and contract under his hand as she gritted her teeth and gasped with the pain, gripping his hand like a vice. It only lasted around thirty seconds, but it felt like forever. The sensation made his blood run cold. As soon as it was over, he felt her body shake with sobs again, and he was alarmed by the sudden corresponding increase in the heart rate monitor beside them.

He turned her head round to look at him, adopting the stern voice that he knew

She would listen to. "You listen to me now Dawesy, ok? I need you to stop crying, right now. Take deep breaths and lie here with me." She nodded between tears, and began to take those deep breaths, with the effect of slowing both Charles' heart rate, and the one on the monitor.

"That's better. Keep doing that. Now listen to me." He placed his hand on her stomach again, moving so that his head rested on Molly's hipbone as he spoke directly to her stomach. "I know you're charmed by all that bloody magnetism coming from your mum, but you can't come out and meet her yet. You have to stay in there a while longer. We're both desperate to meet you, but we can wait until it's the right time." He joined his hand with Molly's again, and used it to stroke her stomach tenderly, continuing to speak comforting words in a steady tone. He felt her begin to relax beside him as she watched.

"She's moving. She can hear you, I think."

Molly whispered. The sensation was still fairly new to her, and she lapped it up gratefully. Charles lowered his face to kiss her stomach carefully, making sure not to disturb the monitor wrapped around it.

He made his way back up to his previous position, wrapped around Molly. He felt her tense again, and knew that another contraction was coming, only a couple of minutes after the previous one. He continued to whisper in her ear, reminding her to breathe slowly and steadily. He placed one hand on her bump, the other rubbing her back as her stomach hardened like a rock again. It didn't last as long this time, ten seconds at the most. He waited until her breathing had returned to normal before he spoke again, wishing he felt more confident in what he was saying.

"She's going to be fine Molly. You're going to be fine. This girl is a troublemaker like her mum. She's just trying to give us both a few extra grey hairs before she arrives."

"Us?" Molly whispered from in front of him. "There's only one of us on this bed with any grey hairs to start with." He allowed a wry smile to fall on his face. She was back with him. "There you are Dawesy. Knew you wouldn't be able to resist an opportunity to take the piss."

"You make it too easy for me to take the piss." She grumbled.

"Oh, and grumpy too. You're definitely back."

She turned and looked at him, tears filling her eyes. His heart felt like it might break from the vulnerability painted on her face. "I'm so scared" she whispered, so quietly that he barely heard it.

"So am I. But try not to be. The three of us are all here, lying together. It's all going to be ok, you don't need to worry." She closed her eyes as he held her, beginning to feel the terror of the days events wash away a little.

"Close your eyes and rest. I'm here to take care of you both." His words were soothing and calm, and as he continued to speak she felt herself slowly begin to relax. He ran his hand along the length of her arm, continuing to whisper words of reassurance as she became noticeably less tense. When he heard her gasp, he was ready for the contraction and placed a hand on her stomach, ready for the tightening. When it came, she didn't react as badly to it, breathing slowly and steadily.

"They're not as bad. The contractions aren't as bad" she echoed what he was thinking as she continued to lie still, eyes remaining closed.

"Stop thinking about it. Think about something else. Tell me about a time when you felt really happy, like nothing bad could ever bring you down."

It took a few seconds, but she smiled, recalling exactly such a moment. She could still feel the fresh spring sun beating on her face as the memory returned to her. "That day in Bath." A smile lit up her face as she remembered.

"We were walking from the restaurant to your parents house. It took bloody ages, you still had your boot on." He laughed at the memory. "I remember."

"I was holding your arm when we walked. It was hardly anything, but it gave me goosebumps. It was the most contact we'd ever really had till then. It was such a gorgeous day, and I had been so nervous. It was the first time that day that I didn't feel any nerves at all. It just felt right. We didn't talk about anything serious, we just chatted. But the closer to the house we got, the nerves started to build up inside me again. You stopped, and pulled me into you. D'you remember what you said?"

"Course I do, I remember everything about that day. I told you that I loved you."

"It weren't just that. I know you said you loved me, but it was the way you said 'I love you Molly Dawes' and the sun was shining, and then you leaned down and kissed me. It was perfect. I'll never forget it."

He grinned and looked at her. Her eyes were still closed and he brushed her face with his hand so that she opened them. As soon as she did, she met his eyes.

"I love you Molly Dawes." He leaned down and kissed her again, recreating the moment. She sighed and leaned into the brief kiss.

"How's that?" He ventured. "Perfect?"

"Mmm" she looked as though she was weighing it up carefully before announcing the verdict. "You'll do."

"Hey!" He pouted jokingly. "That was my best work."

"You might gonna need to get some new lines."

"Charming. I'll practice some new material shall I?"

They relaxed back into their resting position, Charles brushing the hair back from Molly's face as she lay in front of him. The happy memory warmed her, and she closed her eyes, basking in it, as Charles continued to soothe her. It wasn't long before exhaustion overtook her and she felt herself relax as she drifted into a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that she and the baby were safe in his arms.

Charles felt her fall into a light sleep, doing his best to disguise the sheer terror which still clawed at his insides. He felt her stomach tighten again very slightly as she slept, but she didn't stir, and he released a deep breath of relief when it passed quickly without disturbing her.

After a few moments, the door opened quietly. Upon seeing that Molly was asleep, Julia quietened her footsteps and approached the monitor beside the bed, studying the piece of paper that it produced. She rose her head in disbelief at Charles, whispering so as not to wake Molly. "The contractions are slowing down."

"Yes. She's had four since I got here, but the last one didn't even wake her up."

"They're far less intense than they were." Julia looked up again from the paper, a look of disbelief on her face. "Well done." A smile lit her face, and he instantly understood that her harshness earlier had been caused by intense worry for Molly and the baby. Her good mood caused some of the knots of worry in his stomach to relax.

"What now?"

"Ideally she should rest for as long as possible. She's not out of the woods yet, but these results are the best we could have hoped for." If Charles hadn't been laid out on the bed, he was reasonably sure he would have fallen to his knees in praise of whatever god was smiling down on him. The sense of relief was comparable only to the moment that he was told Sam's kidney transplant had been successful. He held Molly as tightly as possible, waiting until Julia excused herself from the room before letting the tears he had been holding in all afternoon fall from his eyes.

* * *

**AN2. As I said above, please remember that I'm all about the happy endings. This chapter was written based on a very real life experience. That RL experience of my own resulted in the very bouncy, very mischievous toddler currently wrecking my house while I write fanfic :-). So believe me when I say that this chapter is as traumatic as it's going to get for MD and CJ in this story. There was a point to it, which should hopefully become clear. Hope you enjoyed this, and thank you all for welcoming me back after a bit of away time. **

**Song was This Woman's Work, by Kate Bush**


	16. Chapter 16: Head Over Feet

_**10th October 2018**_

As she woke in the hospital bed, Molly was aware of having the strangest dream. She could have sworn she was back in the FOB in Afghanistan, listening to the banter between the lads. It felt so real, she was so sure she could hear their voices right beside her. She was groggy after a disturbed night, the noises of the hospital ensuring that she didn't sleep very well. It was only when she finally opened her eyes that she realised she wasn't dreaming. She felt a warm sense of familiarity and relief, and couldn't help but smile as she took in the sight of Brains and Fingers sitting in the armchairs beside her bed in their civvies. Fingers was reading from a glossy magazine, commenting on the latest celebrity stories, whilst Brains studied Molly carefully from the seat nearest to her, noticing her now open eyes.

"Finally decided to wake up then, lazy arse."

"Wouldn't have bothered if I'd realised it was only you two tossers." Molly shot back at him, still grinning. She opened her arms to hug him first, noting the concern in his voice as he squeezed her tightly in his arms and spoke quietly in her ear "you been tryin' to give us all a fright Dawesy?"

"Not me-" she gesticulated to her stomach, trying to blink away the tears that sprung to her eyes at his concern, "-this one. She's the troublemaker"

"I wonder who she takes that off, eh Dawesy?" Fingers made his way from the furthest away chair to give Molly another hug and then a sloppy kiss on the cheek, adding after the kiss "I can get away with that since Bossman's not 'ere!", sniggering as he sat back down.

"Where is he?" Molly asked, trying not to be too affected by his absence. Charles had barely left her side in the four days since the awful morning on which she was admitted. She knew realistically that he would have to start living in the real world again, but he had given her no warning that he wouldn't be here this morning when she woke.

"Said he had some stuff he had to take care of, asked us to keep you company while he was off doin' it." What Brains didn't mention was that both men had been threatened to within an inch of their lives by Charles not to let Molly get upset or stressed in any way. He was currently struggling with the fear that something would trigger the same contractions she had suffered from four days earlier, despite reassurance from the doctors and nurses treating her that it was unlikely. She was doing well, but currently confined to bed rest, something which she was finding incredibly restrictive and boring, even with Charles to keep her company.

"Anyway-" ventured Brains, alert to Molly's silent pondering "-wanna hear about this one and his latest bout of fuckmuppetry?" He gestured his head towards Fingers, who responded with a two finger salute wrapped carefully around the side of his face as a disguise whilst he pretended to continue to read Molly's magazine "It's not gonna disappoint, I promise."

"Yeah, alright" Fingers conceded after Molly began to giggle and demand an explanation, "but before that I want the proper lowdown on you and the Boss. You're a fuckin' dark horse Dawesy."

An awkward pause followed. "She's no dark horse, the rest of youse are just muppets who couldn't see what was right in front of them" Brains commented, although he couldn't help but notice Molly's discomfort with the change of topic.

"You would say that, you smug little bastard, since you knew all along." He tossed the used magazine directly at Brains, who caught it clumsily with two hands, much to the amusement of Fingers. He continued, "I'll have you know, I'm usually brilliant at sussing stuff like that out" looking annoyed as Molly and Brains guffawed knowingly at his bravado. "I fuckin' am, I can work out anyone's secrets, me. Just call me Detective Fingers." He stroked his chin knowingly, and Molly and Brains erupted in hysterics at the same time as the door opened, revealing a harassed looking Julia, clutching a pile of charts. She looked suspicious at the laughter coming from Molly and Brains as she entered the room.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing Jules, just laughing at this muppet here." Molly explained. Fingers, having taken in Julia's appearance, rose and took the pile of charts from her, holding them comfortably as he surveyed her appearance. He appeared to like what he saw, moving closer to her as he spoke.

"Alright sweetheart? I'm Fingers, although you can call me whatever you want. Tell me this, what do I need to do to find a gorgeous looking doctor like you?"

"I'm sure you've experienced a wonderful calibre of doctors over on the psychiatric ward, _sweetheart_." She muttered, grabbing the pile of charts back from him before dispatching them to their correct place at the end of Molly's bed. "I need to give you the once over Molly, it won't take a minute."

She began to pull the privacy curtain around the bed, nodding to the two occupants of the chairs. "Can you give us five minutes?" It wasn't lost on Molly that Julia hadn't acknowledged or looked at Brains once since she entered the room, and in the meantime he had stayed silent, simply observing her as she went about her business. He stood to oblige her request, waiting until Fingers had left the room before Molly watched him stand behind Julia and brush the base of her spine with his hand, lingering as he whispered something in her ear before continuing to leave. She watched Julia close her eyes and pause briefly, as if debating whether to stop him leaving the room. Almost as soon as it happened, she sprang back into doctor mode, proceeding as though nothing was amiss, as she finished closing the curtain and writing on a chart.

Her curiosity now piqued, Molly asked the obvious question. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

"Not really." Julia continued writing.

"Let me put that another way. Your poor, sick roommate's stuck on bed rest with nothing to do, nothing to keep me occupied." She grinned knowingly at Julia and cocked her head to the side, "so tell me, what's up with you?"

Julia sat down on the edge of the bed as she took Molly's pulse and recorded the results on her chart, ignoring the question. After a couple of minutes of silence, she looked up to see a pair of wide green eyes and a pout, groaning at the puppy dog look she was being subjected to.

"Oh Jesus, fine. We had words. Happy?"

Molly shrugged. "Not really. What were the words about?"

"I made a first class arsehole out of myself. And now he wants to '_talk about it'_. He's all about the talking, is your mate. I wish he'd shut up about the whole thing."

"Are you ever gonna stop calling him 'my mate' and admit to the fact that he's your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend." Julia shifted nervously as she continued to measure Molly's heart rate.

"Bloody looks like it from where I'm sitting. Anyway, what'd you do?"

"You really don't wanna know. Made a sorry pathetic fool of myself is all."

"In that case, I definitely wanna know." Molly grinned, only stopping when she noticed the look of genuine upset on Julia's face as she whispered. "Yesterday was a bad day. Well it's a bad day every year, but this year felt worse for some reason."

"Why was it a bad day?"

"It was her birthday" She managed before looking away and hurriedly wiping a stray tear from her eye. Molly instantly knew what she was talking about and grabbed her hand. "Your daughter?"

"She's not my daughter" Julia shook her head vehemently, pulling her hand away. "I'm not her mother. It's just a bad day, bad memories." She looked at Molly, ready to tell her what had happened. "Anyway, it was a bad day. So I had a fair bit to drink, got a bit pissed."

"That's alright, can't blame you for that. How's that making an idiot of yourself?"

"I bloody went and told him about it didn't I?" She whispered angrily as Molly sighed with sympathy. "I'm so fucking angry with myself. I've never done that before."

"Oh Jules, don't beat yourself up. Put it this way, why did you tell 'im?"

"Didn't I already mention the fact that I was pissed? That's why I told him."

"Bollocks" Julia stared at Molly in disbelief when she said it. "Don't look at me like that. You've been pissed god knows how many times and not told anybody, but you told _him_. Why?"

"I don't wanna have this conversation Molls."

"I know you don't. But you're gonna."

"God, I hate you sometimes!" Julia groaned and moved so that she sat properly beside Molly on the bed, looking in the same direction as her, rather than facing her at the edge of the bed.

She looked down at her hands as she spoke quietly. "I wanted to tell him. Yeah I was pissed, but we were in bed, just lying there, and he was saying stuff, nice stuff. I stupidly felt for a minute like I shouldn't keep it a secret from him. I wanted to be straight with him. So I opened my big mouth and started to tell him. Once I'd started I couldn't really stop. If I'd fucking known an orgasm acted as a truth serum, I'd have kept well away from him."

Molly couldn't help but giggle at the comment, stopping when Julia looked round at her in annoyance. "Sorry. How'd he take it?"

"Dunno."

Molly was incredulous "You dunno?"

"Nope. He went a bit quiet when I told him. I panicked and chucked him out the flat before he had the chance to say anything didn't I?" Her head was now buried in her hands and she spoke from between her fingers.

"Jules! I thought you were in bed at the time."

"What?! I made sure I chucked his clothes out with him."

Molly threw her arm around her friend and Julia reluctantly surrendered to her embrace, relaxing and resting a head on her shoulder. "You're a nutter."

"Takes one to know one."

* * *

It was a couple of minutes later that Julia regained her professionalism and finished Molly's examination, opening the curtain and sticking her head into the corridor to let the lads know that Molly was ready for them. Only Fingers was there, and he wandered back into the room casually.

Molly noticed the absence first. "Where's Brains?"

"He'll be back in a bit. Gone to get cuppa's. Anyway" he lingered where Julia was completing Molly's chart. "You haven't introduced yourself yet."

Julia glanced for a second at him with a gaze of pure ice, and Molly winced, wondering if she should help him out given her friend's current mood. Before she could decide, Brains entered with a tray of four takeaway cups.

"I'm Dr Maguire" she responded quietly to Fingers' question, "I flatshare with Molly."

Fingers didn't pick up on the hostility currently being aimed in his direction, or if he did, it didn't deter him in the slightest. "Where do I put my name down for a full body examination then? If every doctor looked like you I reckon we'd all be gettin' ourselves injured on exercise."

Brains ignored the developing situation and handed a cup to Molly, whispering as he handed it to her "on a scale of one to ten, how much of a rinsing is he about to get?"

"I'd say a 12."

Both of their jaws dropped as Julia laughed off the comment, smiling politely at Fingers as she responded. "That's very kind of you to say, but it'd be pointless. I don't go out with patients, it's kind of a rule around here."

"Remind me never to be a patient then. So what you up to tonight? I've got a couple of days R&amp;R now."

"Good for you, enjoy your days off. I'll be busy I'm afraid."

"Pity. You know Brains here reckons you're pretty scary."

"Does he now?" She risked a glance in Brains' direction. He was watching her with careful interest, waiting to see how she responded to the comment.

"Yeah, says you proper rinse him out all the time. Sorry about him, he's not got the first idea how to handle a woman. I keep tryin' to teach him, but he's a lost cause."

She continued to watch Brains, who seemed unaffected by the insult, eventually returning her gaze to Fingers. "He's right, I do rinse him out. Regularly."

"Fair enough, it's easy to do to the lad."

"Nah, it's just the opposite actually." She made her way to the tray of cups that Brains held in his hand, pulling hers out. "I only take people on when I know they have the intelligence to fight me back. He's a challenge to me. I like a challenge." She took a drink of her coffee, grinning at Brains before she left the room, as he shook his head with a wry smile. As she departed she issued another comment behind her, turning to Fingers, who looked genuinely confused.

"And trust me, he knows exactly how to handle a woman. I've no complaints."

As she sauntered out of the room, Molly wondered if the grin would ever fall from Brains' face. Fingers turned around accusingly.

"_You're_ shagging _her_?!"

Brains took a sip of his coffee, still grinning. He swallowed the liquid and let out a deep, satisfied breath, content for the first time that morning that everything wasn't completely ruined with Julia as he had feared. "Sorry, _Detective Fingers,_ is that another one that slipped under your radar?"

Julia heard the laughter erupt from the room as she lingered outside the door, smiling to herself as she carried on down the corridor, muttering under her breath when she realised what was happening.

"Bloody scouser. He's ruined me."

* * *

Darkness had eventually fallen that night when visiting hours ended and Molly realised that there was no chance of her now seeing Charles before the morning. She hadn't heard a word from him all day, his phone was off, and she couldn't help but start to get concerned. The lads and Julia had acted as a good distraction during the day, but now that she was left with her own thoughts, she couldn't stop thinking.

The lights had gone out for the night on the ward, and Molly's private side room, a benefit of being a member of staff, was coated in darkness. She heard the door creep open and sat up as the figure crept in carefully. She didn't need to switch the light on to know who it was.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Charles joined her on the bed, pulling his shoes off so that he could lie with her. She could make out the tiredness on his face from the very faint moonlight shining in the window.

"Nah I was awake already. How did you get in?"

"Had to flash the nurse one of my best smiles. I was worried she was going to make me flash more than that if I'm honest."

Molly giggled lightly. "That lot bloody love you."

"Well I only have eyes for one woman. Come here." He pulled her body towards him, wrapping his arms around her as he dropped his lips to her temple, moving round to pepper her cheek and nose with tiny kisses. Molly sighed happily and stretched out beside him, grabbing the nape of his neck with her hands as she sought his lips with her own. She felt him moan into her mouth as he responded to her searching kisses, finding his tongue with hers. When neither could breathe any longer, they broke apart, panting slightly. Charles chuckled as he caressed her cheek with his hand. "Sorry, got a bit carried away. I've got half an hour before she comes to kick me out. How was today?"

"It was fine. The lads stayed most of the day." She didn't really want to ask what was on her mind, but she did it anyway. "Where were you?"

"I had some stuff to take care of" he responded evasively, tightening his hold around her. When he realised she wasn't satisfied with the explanation he elaborated. "Lieutenant Colonel Jones is here. I had to catch up with him, let him know what's going on."

Molly snorted. "I bet that was a fun conversation. 'Sorry boss, I've taken up with an army medic who used to be in my chain of command, despite being a Major who you thought was married to somebody else till very recently. Oh and by the way, she's knocked up.' Bet that went down well."

He winced, the conversation having gone even worse than that, if possible. Jones was utterly furious with him. "Something like that. But that's not for you to worry about. It's my own fault for being such an idiot in the first place and not setting everybody straight on the Rebecca situation."

She could feel the tension radiating from him as he loosened his hold on her, rolling onto his back and running a hand through his hair with what she recognised as worry. She watched him carefully, not sure of what to say next. His mood had darkened.

"I spoke to Sam." He confessed, looking at the ceiling.

"How was he?"

"Distant. He didn't say much." Molly sighed and brushed a loose curl from Charles forehead, running her fingers through his hair soothingly as she responded. "He's 11, and his parents have split up for the second time. He'll need some time to adjust."

"Yep" Charles sighed, obviously not buying into her theory, but agreeing for the sake of it.

"You miss him, don't you?" Molly whispered, well aware of the turmoil building within him. He closed his eyes, trying not to respond. When he finally opened them, they were filled with tears that he tried to shake away. Molly's heart could have broken right there for him.

"Yes" he managed to choke out before regaining some composure. "It's the first time I've left him since before he was ill."

"Would Rebecca let him come out for a visit?"

"Not a chance in hell. And that's a direct quote, I already asked."

He looked so sad lying there, that it spurred Molly to voice the thoughts she had been having for the last couple of weeks, but not wanting to voice for fear it would become final. In the end she plucked up the courage and said it.

"We need to go back, don't we?"

He didn't speak, maintaining his commitment to staring at the ceiling. In truth, he knew they needed to go home. He wanted to go home. But neither of those factors meant anything in comparison to the outright terror he currently felt that the mention of such things might send Molly over the edge and put their baby in danger again. So instead of talking about it, he stared straight ahead, willing his eyes not to betray him as her gaze bore into him.

"Charles. Talk to me. Stop shutting me out of whatever's goin' on in that head of yours. I ain't gonna figure it out with you ignoring me."

"I'm not ignoring you. This just isn't the best time to talk about this stuff. I don't want you stressed out."

"I tell you what's stressing me out, you acting like this and doing a disappearing act for the day!"

He sighed with frustration. "I didn't do a bloody disappearing act, I had things-"

"-to sort out, yeah I know." She sat up, knowing that this was getting slightly out of hand, but not knowing what else to do to get her point across. "But you won't tell me what those things are, other than talking to your boss and to Sam. And now that I'm trying to talk to you about what we're gonna do, you're shutting me out. Let me in."

"I'm not shutting you out Molly, I'm trying to protect you, believe it or not."

"I do believe it. And I'm grateful. But I ain't made of glass Charles, I'm not gonna shatter at the tiniest piece of bad news. If this is gonna work, we need to be straight with each other. Now let me start again. We need to go back, don't we?"

He looked at her, knowing she was trying her hardest to maintain her composure and answered her honestly. "Yes, we do. Unless I want to lose my son, and my job, then we need to go back."

"There, how difficult was that?" She managed a small, encouraging smile as she lay back down beside him.

"And you're ok with that?"

"I'm not exactly over the moon, but I'll live with it. I want what's best for all of us, including this one in here" she caressed her stomach as she referred to the baby. "I don't want her to grow up not knowing her brother. And I ain't gonna be responsible for you losing your job."

Charles sighed a deep breath of relief, and she realised fully, for the first time, just how much it was all affecting him. "You need to remember it's you and me now. We're a team. Talk to me about stuff like this instead of trying to deal with it all yourself, you muppet."

"Sorry" he admitted sheepishly, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles lightly. He was delighted that they had made some progress, but he absolutely couldn't admit to her where he had been all day. It was out of the question. Because if she found out that he had made a 350 mile round trip in one day, she would have questions. About where he had been. And what he had been doing.

If he answered those questions honestly, then it would lead Molly directly to the jewellery box in his jacket pocket, which currently contained a beautiful diamond ring.

It was one that he had picked out weeks ago, but had been waiting to collect from the jewellers that he made the lengthy trip to visit that day.

He hadn't planned how or when he would do it, but hoped to god that her current capacity for staying calm would include the moment that he asked her the question that had been playing on his mind since he found her again. He wanted Molly Dawes to make him the happiest man alive and marry him. All he had to do was pluck up the courage to ask her.

* * *

**AN. Hello! Thanks so much to all of you for your lovely words on the last chapter - it was a bit of a personal one, so I'm delighted that people seemed to like it. I know this one had a bit less CJ than usual, but he had important business to take care of, plus I wanted to catch up a little with the rest of the players in the story. And I do have a soft spot for Brains and Julia, so wanted to see some more of them. Thanks again for being such lovely readers, hopefully you continue to enjoy. :-)**

**Song for this chapter was Head Over Feet, by Alanis Morrisette. Thanks to Eleanor, for spotting that I'd forgotten to add when I first uploaded! I blame the toddler for distracting me! :-)**


	17. Chapter 17: Here Comes the Rain Again

_**15th November 2018**_

Molly sat at the small kitchen table at far too early an hour, staring miserably through the dark at the mug of tea sitting in front of her. 5am wasn't the most ideal hour to be contemplating her worries, but the baby had decided that it was active time, therefore the chances of her sleeping were slim to none. It was in this manner that Julia found her as she stepped out of her bedroom to get ready for an early morning shift at the hospital, jumping as she reached for the kitchen light and spotted a lone figure at the table.

"Christ alive, what are you doing sitting in the dark at this time?"

Molly hadn't registered Julia's presence until she spoke, and looked up from her tea distractedly. "Sorry. Just thinkin' about stuff."

"Where's Major Perfect? Off practicing poses in the mirror?" She enquired as she clicked the kettle on, chuckling at her own joke. She leaned her back against the worktop so that she faced Molly, who was still studying her cup of tea resolutely, running a finger against the handle of the mug. "He ain't here, so you can cut it out with the piss taking."

Julia rolled her eyes as she waited on the kettle boiling, talking louder over the noise coming from it. "Okay, someone's had a sense of humour bypass this morning.."

Molly still didn't look up from the table, muttering despondently under her breath as she responded. "I'm doin a good enough job of chasing him off myself, I don't need you helping me by taking the piss out of him constantly."

Unfortunately, Julia had even less tolerance than usual at such an early hour. "Molly. I don't mean to be rude but it's too early in the morning to dance around in circles. What the fuck's the problem?"

Julia's hardened tone and sigh of exasperation finally drew Molly's attention from her mug, and she looked up at her, anxiety written all over her face.

"I reckon he's gone off me."

Julia could only scoff in response. "Who? Lover boy? Don't be so bloody ridiculous. He adores you Molly, anyone can see that."

"I'm tellin' you Jules, he has. He's been acting really weird since I told him I'd go back home with him. All nervous and fidgety. I think he's trying to find a way to tell me he's changed his mind about us or something."

Julia turned her back and sighed again as she made her cup of coffee, trying to ignore the mention of Molly going home in less than a month with Charles and, by extension, Brains. That was something she couldn't, or wouldn't, currently think about. "Molly. Stop being such a dick. If he'd changed his mind you'd know all about it."

"It ain't just that. He won't come near me Jules." She turned at that, raising an eyebrow at her friend. "It's true! I can't even remember the last time we had anything more than a kiss and a cuddle. It was before I was in hospital. Any time I try, he freezes up and can't get rid of me quick enough. Last night was the perfect example. I tried everything I could think of, then he turns round and says he can't stay the night cos he's out on exercise first thing this morning! He's gone off me, I know it. No wonder, I'm the bloody size of a whale and I'm only 6 months gone."

Julia shrugged her shoulders, looking unconcerned. "He's not gone off you. Some men are weird about sex during pregnancy, and you two haven't had an easy time of it. You're putting two and two together and coming up with twenty. Stop it." She saw the concerned look still plaguing Molly and knew she hadn't abated her fears in the slightest. She sighed before continuing. "You need to talk to him Molly. He loves you. Christ, it's a bad day when I'm the one giving the relationship advice. Even I can see he's sickeningly mad about you."

They were disturbed by a bleary eyed figure standing at the door. "You two wanna have your girly chat a bit quieter? Some of us are tryin' to kip round 'ere."

Molly was in no mood for Brains' interruption. "That depends. You wanna start paying rent like the rest of us? Then you can start acting like you own the place."

He exchanged a look with Julia, who shrugged her shoulders and shook her head in a silent warning for him not to go any further. "You're touchy this morning Dawesy. Thought you liked havin' me around?" He took the cup from Julia's hand, stealing a sip of her freshly made coffee before receiving a swat on the arm for his cheek. He returned the cup to her hands and slipped his arms around her waist by way of an apology for his theft, planting a kiss on her neck.

"I need to get ready for work" Julia pulled herself reluctantly from the nuzzles to her neck as he tried to pull her closer. "You should sit and talk to Molly. She needs a man's perspective, but you'll just have to do instead." She smirked as Brains looked around desperately for a way out of the conversation before realising that his friend was genuinely upset.

"Go on then" he sighed reluctantly as he pulled out the chair beside Molly, ruffling her hair affectionately despite the look of distaste she was currently aiming in his direction. "You gonna tell me what's up?"

Molly looked at him, determination suddenly etched in her face. "Don't you have an early start this morning?"

He leaned back in the chair in relaxation, not realising the reasoning behind the sudden question. "Nah, I don't need to report till 11, nothing much goin' on right now with this weather" he gestured to the window, the fresh snowfall adding to the existing freezing conditions.

"You see!" Molly turned angrily to Julia, tears beginning to stir in her eyes. "He lied, he didn't need to leave last night. I'm right." She stood and left the room, followed all the way by a concerned stare from Julia. Once Molly was safely out of the room, she aimed a dirty look in Brains' direction for his part in the conversation.

"What the fuck have I done?" he asked incredulously. His question was met only with the back of her head and silence in response as she too left the room, shaking her head as she walked away. "Forget it. I'm going to work."

Brains sat back in his chair, still mystified at his brief early morning encounter with the two ladies in his life.

"Women. Why do I even bother?"

* * *

As Charles settled into his solitary observation spot for the small scale exercise he was leading that morning, he took a minute to admire the beautiful sight in front of him. The vast snowfall had transformed the prairie into something resembling a winter wonderland. The cold air nipped at his face, his warm breath forming wispy, brief pockets of steam in front of him.

Conscious of the fact that he had less than a month remaining until the end of his time in Canada, he tried to soak up the sheer beauty of the picture before him. Matters at the base were slowly being wound up in terms of the training exercises he was leading, the weather halting much of the larger scale battle recreations that the company had been involved in. This mornings voluntary outing involved only a few soldiers. It probably didn't even require his attendance given its low key nature, but he was desperate for an escape to mull matters over, and the vast empty space surrounding him was perfect for such an activity.

He was all too aware of the fact that, more than a month after collecting the engagement ring he intended to give to Molly, he still hadn't asked the question. There had been opportunities to do so, but he was currently paralysed by indecision over what constituted the perfect moment to ask her. The more he tried to settle his nerves and plan an unforgettable moment, the more difficult it became to decide just what that was. His fear of upsetting her and causing more difficulties with the pregnancy only served to compound his indecision.

He was even irritating himself by this point, and was aware of the fact that he needed a substantial kick up the arse. Struggling for inspiration on what would constitute the perfect moment, he finally settled on taking her out for a romantic dinner that weekend. He couldn't shake the fact that the approach didn't feel quite right though. He wasn't convinced that Molly would appreciate a public proposal, and he considered cancelling the table and having yet another rethink.

"For fuck's sake Charles" he chastised himself under his breath. "Get a grip. Stop overthinking it."

* * *

Over the course of the day, Molly's mood had failed to improve much. She was still absent from work, and the isolation of spending much of her time alone in the flat wasn't helping. She eventually settled on a walk to get some fresh air and try to balance her mood out a little. As she walked, the cold air nipped into her bones, forcing her to pull her jacket tighter around her ever growing bump as she shivered.

_Jesus, it's cold out here._

She would seriously need to invest in some clothes that fitted her soon. She had resorted to stealing half of Charles' shirts and jumpers, as well as a number of Julia's clothes. The darkness of the early evening sky was beginning to dominate the air, and she made her way back home after managing to clear her head slightly.

The short walk was enough to chill her to the bone, and as she re-entered the flat, shaking the snow from her boots, she lapped up the warmth that greeted her through the front door. Feeling her fingers beginning to defrost in the warm air, she made her way to her room to change out of her snow covered clothes. She found Charles there, lounging on her bed watching TV. As he caught sight of her entering the room, cheeks flushed deep pink due to a combination of the sudden heat and the exertion of her walking, he grinned and cast the tv remote to his side on the bed.

"Thought I was going to have to send out a search party."

Molly took in the sight of him stretched out on the bed, a tight black tshirt clinging to his body and thin grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips, with bare feet crossed at the ankles and resting against her duvet cover. It was indecent how good he managed to look even when lounging around watching tv. She shook her head from her reverie. There wasn't much point appreciating the finer points of his body right now, it wasn't like she was going to get anywhere near it.

"Sorry. Needed to think" she mumbled as she made her way towards the bed.

He turned on his side to face her as she sat down with her back to him. "What's the matter? Are you feeling ok?" His tone became one of mild concern at her strange mood. He remained talking to the back of her head. She couldn't force herself to turn around and face him, knowing that she would crumple if she looked at him. He picked up on her reluctance to turn, and placed a hand on her shoulder from behind her.

"Molly" his tone was soft and concerned. "What's happened?"

As she finally turned towards him, he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks, and felt his concern rise another couple of notches.

She sniffed before she spoke, pulling herself together with a stare that was harder than she felt. "I can't do this anymore" she stated simply as he rose an eyebrow in surprise. That had been the last thing he was expecting her to say.

"Do what?" He sat up, trying not to panic as he began to feel his heart sink in his chest. He watched her steel herself and put up the same barrier that he had worked so hard in the past to power through. _Why was she doing this again?_

"Pretend that it's all ok when it's not. I know what's goin' on."

_Shit. How could she know what he was planning? How could she possibly know? Had she somehow found the ring and panicked? Fuck._

"How do you know?" His tone was even and calm. Despite the levels of panic he felt right now, his military training didn't desert him, and the slight tremble in his hand was the only clue that gave him away. He had thought for all of these weeks that he had the situation under control. Obviously not, since the look of devastation on Molly's face could barely disguise her horror at the thought of marrying him.

_How could I have misread this situation so badly? _

"I know I ain't exactly the brightest spark, but it wasn't that difficult to figure out. Why couldn't you just say something?" She almost whispered the question, looking away again as she asked it.

"I've been trying Molly! I've been trying to find the right moment! Obviously there isn't going to be a right moment since you're so upset at the thought of it." He was crestfallen as the realisation came crashing down on him.

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "Of course I'm bloody upset, what did you think I'd do, smile sweetly and tell you it was fine?!"

Charles stood from the bed, unable to contain himself anymore, forcing a hand through the thick curls on his head as he paced. "I really don't understand this Molly. I thought you might actually be happy."

Her irritation and anger rose to whole new levels with that comment as she stared at him pacing. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would I be happy?!"

"I thought you wanted this. I thought _we_ were happy!" He stopped pacing to measure her reaction to his statement.

"So did I, till you changed your bloody mind. I should have known it was all too good to be true. I should have known this would happen."

_Wait. What?_

"What on earth are you talking about, changing my mind?"

"I'm _talking_ about you going off me the minute l decide I'll actually go home with you. Was it all about the chase, is that it? As soon as you knew I wouldn't run any more it all got a bit less exciting for you?" She knew she was getting carried away, but having her worst fears confirmed like this was terrifying to her. She could hardly believe it was happening.

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about right now." His tone was furious, and for a brief second she was reminded of the time when he was her Captain, and a bollocking from him felt like the end of the world. She was obviously wrong then, because this felt a hell of a lot more like the end of the world. Her heart raced as his face remained stern. "Would you please explain to me what the bloody hell is going on?"

"You" she almost allowed herself to lose it and cry again, but managed to compose herself at the last minute. "You've lost interest, changed your mind about it all. I suppose it's best I find out now before I actually go and give up everything here to follow you across the world like an idiot." She fumed through her angry tears.

"What?!" This time he was truly furious, and Molly felt herself begin to shrink under his stern stare. "How could you possibly ever think that I've lost any interest in you?! This is bloody ridiculous Molly."

"It's not ridiculous, it's true. You won't even come near me, you refuse to touch me. It's so obvious that it's painful."

The penny suddenly dropped with full force and he felt like he might struggle to breathe for a minute, the depth of her misunderstanding dismaying him. Despite the anger he currently felt, he willed himself not to be upset by just how much she had misjudged and underestimated him. He tried his very hardest to see it from her point of view rather than lashing out, but such tolerance was fast becoming impossible.

He leaned over her where she sat on the bed, pulling her small wrist tightly in his hand, willing himself to calm down and explain the situation rationally to her. Rapidly, an awareness that it was now or never was becoming clear to him. He cleared his throat twice before crouching down beside where she sat. He willed himself to breathe deep and even.

"That has nothing to do with me going off you Molly, I assure you. It's quite the opposite actually."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just what I say. I haven't 'gone off you' as you put it. And honestly, I can't quite believe that you would ever think I would. It's only six weeks since you were in hospital. I'm not willing to put you back in there by rushing things."

She brushed more tears from her eyes as he spoke. _Bloody hormones._

"But the doctors said it was fine-"

"-I know exactly what the doctors said, I was there." He took her hands in his and she suddenly felt the tremble radiating from him as his hands shook. "I'm terrified" he finally admitted, ashamed of himself for feeling that way. He was a Major in the British army, and yet here he sat admitting his terror. "Since that day you were taken into hospital, it feels like I've been holding my breath waiting for something awful to happen. It's not that I don't want you, I promise. You've never been more beautiful to me. But I'm scared to come near you Molly. I can't take the chance that something bad will happen to you and the baby. I just can't lose either of you."

"Charles, nothing bad is gonna happen. They explained that as long as we're careful and gentle, it'll be fine." Molly was slowly starting to realise how badly she had misunderstood the situation, and her cheeks flamed bright red at the things she'd said to him in anger and sadness only moments ago.

"I know that. Logically, I know that." He shook his head as he spoke, looking up at her. "But I can't get past this feeling that something might happen."

The shame of her previous anger overtook Molly and she couldn't hold back any longer. "I'm so sorry for saying those things Charles. I got scared too. I thought you were done with me."

"You need to start trusting me again Molly. I'm never going to be done with you. This is it for me."

"I do trust you, it's just that you've been acting so strangely for the past few weeks. I've been on my own, thinkin' about stuff for too long." She looked at his solemn face and felt the guilt of her assumptions overtake her. When their eyes met again, he pulled her down to where he crouched on the floor, drawing her into his arms. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling calm again as they both returned to a sense of normalcy for a moment. He kissed the top of her head as he held her, enjoying having her in his arms.

There was momentary silence until a thought occurred to Molly.

"What did you think I'd be happy about?"

_Oh shit._ He paused, cursing the fact that she had picked up on his part in the misunderstanding. He tried to buy himself some time as he attempted to make a decision.

"What?"

She pulled away from his arms to look at his dark eyes, studying him. "Earlier. You said you thought I'd be happy about something you were trying to tell me."

_He couldn't wait a moment longer._

He released a breath, feeling less nervous than he expected as he grinned. It was a young, boyish grin and for a brief moment she was reminded of the first time she realised that he might have any feelings for her. It was a brief, distant memory, of him crouched down in front of her in the med tent at the FOB, the same grin on his face as he pulled out a marker pen. Only this time, he pulled something different from his pocket.

It was a small box.

She gasped, and held a shaking hand to her mouth, hoping this wasn't yet another time when she had her wires crossed.

"Charles. What's that?"

He looked at her as they crouched on the floor together, trying his hardest to maintain a calm exterior. He was doing what he thought was a good job of hiding the tremble in his hands as he removed the diamond ring from the box he held. She had stopped talking, and now stared at him in disbelief. He turned the ring over nervously in his fingers, feeling the anticipation build up within him as he desperately tried to remember the words he had planned to say. Now that he was in the moment, looking directly at her, ring in his hand, it was so much more difficult to try and recall his pre-planned words. So he abandoned them, speaking directly from the heart instead, his voice husky with emotion.

"I was supposed to do the whole romantic, restaurant, get down on one knee thing. I had planned to do that, I've got a bloody table booked this weekend to do exactly that." She gasped at that, suddenly understanding the extent to which she had jumped to the wrong conclusion,

"Molly." He took her hand in his and met her eyes again. "I'm making a really shit job of this" he muttered, chuckling under his breath before looking back up at her, determination in his eyes. He stroked her hand with his thumb as he spoke, more for reassurance than anything else.

"I've loved you for as long as I've known you. You saved me Molly; in so many more ways than when you saved my life. When we're together, I feel like maybe anything is possible because we managed to find each other again, despite everything." He watched as she cried, although they were happy tears falling onto her already moist cheeks this time, and finally realised that this was the perfect moment he had waited for. All he needed in order to make any moment perfect, was Molly in front of him. He finally continued, running his left thumb along her cheekbone to brush her tears away as he spoke to her, both still crouched together on the floor, foreheads resting against each other.

"You're the woman I love, and you're my best friend." He chuckled lightly under his breath as he added his next statement. "I've never really had a best friend until I met you. Nobody knew me well enough, until you came along." She smiled as she looked at him and whispered only one word.

"Ditto"

He beamed at her, knowing without any doubt that it would all be ok. He pulled her towards him in a deep hug, murmuring a quiet question into her ear.

"Will you be my wife as well?"

* * *

**AN - Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, its much appreciated. Sorry the update wasn't very quick in coming, RL has been a bit hectic this week. Hopefully next one shouldn't take as long, and it may even have an M rating if CJ manages to get over himself a bit… ;-)**

**Song was Here comes the rain again, by the Eurythmics**


	18. Chapter 18: Try a Little Tenderness

**AN. Before anybody starts reading this - a warning! You might all agree that Molly and CJ have been out through the mill in this story! Well, that's not the case in this chapter. This is pretty much all about the sexy times. If you don't want to read about that, you probably won't enjoy this! If you do want to read it, then find ten minutes to yourself, pour a drink, and (hopefully) enjoy. This is part 2 of the proposal, but genuinely contains 100% M rated material, and zero story development. Apologies for the complete lack of story in this update, but our Molly and CJ deserved a bit of a break for a change..! Thanks to everyone who has been persisting with this, it's gone on way longer than I anticipated, but I will be attempting to tie it up soon. I have a potential idea for something else a bit different, but haven't yet decided whether to pursue it or whether to try and finish this first.**

**To those of you generous enough to have left feedback, thank you very much. I've found it's very easy to lose confidence in what you're doing when writing ff - the lovely words that people have left do wonders in restoring that confidence when it inevitably flags! I will stop babbling now, and leave you to catch up with our favourite pair!**

**Oh, and music is Try a little tenderness by Otis Redding**

* * *

_**15th November 2008 (cont)**_

Molly beamed from her place in Charles' arms, enjoying the warm feeling of love that had been bestowed by his gorgeous words. Still burrowed tightly into his chest, she raised her head very slightly, just enough to kiss his cheek, and whispered back in his ear.

"Course I will. But I do have one condition."

He smiled wider than he thought possible, burying his head further into her hair, the moment filling him with sudden relief after weeks of anticipation.

"A condition?" He muttered into the thick brown waves. When she didn't respond, he pulled back and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, knowing she was playing with him.

He watched the joking look disappear from her face, replaced with something far more primal, as her green eyes filled with desire and she made her request. She straightened in his arms as she murmured under her breath.

"Take me to bed?"

He tried to swallow back the worry that he had confessed to her only moments before, grinning at her question. "How very direct, Miss Dawes." The growing tightness in his groin after too many weeks of avoiding this situation was making his anxiety quickly flow away, replaced by sheer want and relief. He stopped teasing her and brought his lips close to hers, pausing only momentarily to appreciate the anticipation of the moment. As he paused, Molly could stand the delay no longer and darted her tongue towards his lower lip, earning a smirk from him as she nipped it briefly with her teeth.

The sudden contact broke the spell he was under and forced him to act, grasping the back of her neck as he pulled her closer to him for a kiss full of teasing promise. His tongue tortured her as it explored her mouth slowly but with undeniable need, all nerves evaporating into the air around them. Molly moaned softly into his mouth as he did it, finally feeling his desire for her in his potent kisses. She clawed the hem of his tshirt with a wandering hand that pushed its way under and up, exploring the firm muscles in his back. They stayed like that for much longer than they needed to; like a couple of teenagers on the bedroom floor, unable to tear themselves away from each other as they kissed. Finally, it was Molly who broke the contact, panting as she grinned at him. Her voice was husky and teasing as she spoke.

"Unless you want carpet burns, we should probably move."

Charles looked adoringly at her grinning face, cheeks still flushed and her breath short from their kisses. He was suddenly struck by an overwhelming feeling of intense love for her; he knew he would never be able to get enough of moments like this. Molly was experiencing a similar emotion, taking in his delight just from watching her.

"I love you, Molly Dawes." He punctuated every word with a kiss to her face, decorating her nose, her cheeks and her chin with his affection.

She smiled with an unusual shyness that only endeared her more to him. "That'll be Molly James one day."

"Well if I wasn't already desperate to take you to bed, that seals the deal!" He jumped up from his spot on the floor, causing Molly to squeal with delight as he grasped her hands in his and pulled her up with him, both landing on the soft mattress accompanied by laughter.

The laughter was soon over as Charles kneeled on the bed and leaned over Molly, fixing her with a deep stare that stopped her in her tracks with its intensity. His dark eyes bored into her as a switch flipped, and she recognised the change as one driven by sudden, desperate need. She reached up an arm to grasp her undoubted favourite anchor on his body; the thick brown curls nestling at his neck, and pulled him towards her for yet another shattering kiss. Her other hand nestled yet again under his tshirt, exploring his hard stomach and chest as he held himself in place above her with strong arms. He soon had to shift those arms as her curiosity ran rampant and she pulled the shirt from his body, exposing his temptingly bare upper half to her hungry gaze.

She felt a sudden warm need pool between her thighs and shuddered at the sensation which, combined with the sight of his bare torso only inches above her, taunted her. Pregnancy was only serving to heighten the hormones currently rushing through her, and she sighed blissfully in the full knowledge and anticipation of what lay ahead.

Charles made short work of the top she was wearing, pulling it from her body and over her head in a singular move before nibbling on her collarbone. He still held himself in place above her, moving slowly to place lingering kisses on the soft skin of her neck and chest. The scent of her skin was sweet and subtle; as soon as the smell lingered in his nostrils he recalled all sorts of images that fired his already soaring sense of need. His attentions moved quickly to her breasts, swollen to so much larger than their usual size and tender with all of the changes taking over Molly's body. He cupped one of them in his hands, pulling back the delicate lace of her bra to expose a puffy nipple before placing his mouth over the tender skin, and using his tongue to very gently caress it. Molly gasped lightly at the sensation, once more squeezing her thighs together in a desperate effort to rid herself of the tension building in her body. Soon, the bra was cast aside as he moved his attentions to her other breast, ensuring he treated it to the same loving attentions he had bestowed on its partner.

Their torsos were separated only by the smallest glimmering gap of air between them as Charles continued to rely on the strength in his arms to hold him in place. As the heat from his bare chest reflected onto her own, Molly felt the warmth radiate from his body and shuddered with the sheer pleasure of the moment, their bare top halves almost merging into one, and Molly's firm, rounded stomach taking its place in the middle.

The sensation was accompanied by a husky moan which stopped Charles in his tracks as he continued to work his tongue around her breast. He looked up with a knowing smirk, her appreciation clear to him, before lowering himself even further down her body, trailing kisses along her swollen stomach as he went. The moistness which now gathered between her legs was reaching almost unbearable levels and she ached for him to touch her right where she most needed it. As if reading her mind, he moved further down the bed and fumbled with her leggings, pulling them from her body with a triumphant and knowing smile before returning to his position above her.

That smile didn't waver as he inched his fingers around the elastic waistband of her underwear, earning him a moan and another squirm from Molly as she tightened her grip on the curls on his head. His fingers trailed lightly over the damp material, barely touching her, wandering lightly as they reached the damp patch between her legs. He inched a finger below them to pull the material very slightly away from her heated skin and she uttered a low growl in anticipation, the words stumbling uncertainly from her mouth as she continued to squirm.

"Please..?" Molly gasped as the knowledge of what she needed him to do tormented her.

"Please what?" He whispered innocently in her ear, earning him a frustrated howl from her in response as she arched herself towards his hand, hoping to create some much needed friction.

"Touch me", she mewled with an undertone of need that convinced him instantly.

He chuckled at her impatience, enjoying the sensation of trust that he knew she was placing in him not to be too rough given their instructions from the doctors. He used the material of her knickers to form some friction over her glistening core, pulling the cotton material at the top tightly enough that the material rubbed her wet folds with enough tempo to make her moan loudly again. She swiftly thrashed her head from left to right, and back again, her eyes fluttering shut and biting her lower lip as the sensation warmed her even more. Charles was amazed, even now, at how open and giving she was when they were intimate. It was so utterly different to anything he had ever known with any other partner before; there were no boundaries between them, only open love and trust as they worked to discover exactly what drove the other to the heights of pleasure.

He was aware that one of those things for Molly was a particular sensitive spot on the soft skin behind her ear, and he mounted a dual assault, sucking gently on the area as he placed his hand under the underwear he had been using to provide leverage and slowly but deliberately ran a finger along her dampness, spreading the moisture along the full length of her core. The combination of both sensations at once was almost too much for Molly and she bucked under him, her body beginning to sense that the ultimate pleasure was imminent.

He extended the sensation, curling two long fingers deep inside of her, leaving her howling in his arms in pleasure. When he withdrew them, she felt herself bereft at the loss, continuing to rub herself against his hand forcefully. He grinned at her forwardness; she was in no doubt what she wanted from him. He elected to put her out of her misery, moving back down to the warm heat of her slick folds, although with his mouth this time. He took care to pull her knickers from her slowly, watching her face light up with unrestrained pleasure as she picked up on his clear intentions.

His lips marked a trail down her stomach and beyond as he moved himself from the bed to a kneeling position on the floor. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, she shuddered as his warm breath tickled against her inner thighs. Her thighs were now wrapped around him, and her hands buried in his thick hair, grasping harder the closer he moved to his destination. She was desperate for release and he felt her thrash on the bed before demanding of him. "Please, Charles."

He didn't need any further invitation, and urged his tongue forward to her damp folds. He worked slowly and languorously as he caressed every area except exactly where she needed it, building the pressure he applied slowly, carefully. Her hands pulled at his head, urging him to apply more pressure and stop teasing her.

When he simultaneously inserted one finger, then two, to curl and rub deep within her walls and apply steady pressure, she lost it, shuddering and continuing to urge him on.

"More. I need more." He chuckled again at her demands, his laughter causing a vibration that nearly ended her. He took a moment to look up and admire the sight before him, then took a deep breath before sucking forcefully on her clitoris, causing her to yelp and almost jump from the bed. "Oh fuck, that's so good. Don't stop" she managed to form the words before descending into incoherent moans. Charles hoped with a hint of concern that nobody else was in the flat to hear her loud cries. She'd be mortified if Brains inadvertently heard her in the throes of passion.

Molly was lost, legs wrapped tighter around his head, her bare heels pressing forcefully into the muscled planes of his back. She could no longer bear the persistent pressure being applied to her clitoris and succumbed to the waves of pleasure beginning to lap around her. Her head thrashed again from side to side as she rode those waves, her juices flowing freely to be lapped up by him. As she began to convulse, he continued to work his magic, taking everything she gave him gratefully. Finally, the dam broke and she howled his name with a growl that sounded unrecognisable to her ears.

She lay, shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm, legs still wrapped around his head as he grinned wickedly, feasting on the sight before him. He was unbearably hard, his balls tightened beyond belief at the combination of the smell and feel of her against his mouth. He waited until her shaking legs had subsided before withdrawing from her hold, making his way to lie beside her still recovering body.

She watched as he made his way to move towards her, lying beside her and propped on one arm. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a stray hair on her face to place it behind her ear. She could feel nothing but love and tenderness radiate from him, and she pulled him towards her for a gentle kiss, tasting the remnants of her pleasure on his lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle, not betraying the urgency Charles was now beginning to feel as his hardness persistently made itself known. Molly felt it press against her thigh and worked slowly as they kissed, pulling his sweatpants down to release him from their confines. She gripped the length of his hardness and swept her arm rhythmically, pumping up and down as he groaned into her mouth with a tormented grumble.

Charles didn't give it long before he took charge, knowing that he needed to be inside of her as quickly as possible. He pulled away reluctantly from their kisses and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, positioning her so that her back was turned to him where they lay. He spooned her as he placed his length along her still damp slit, teasing her clitoris with its full head. She groaned again at that, feeling the familiar warmth begin to stir in her lower abdomen as he moved slowly to enter her. His hands placed on her hips from behind, and then very slowly eased his full length inside of her as he dispersed kisses to her neck from his place at her back.

Molly gasped with sheer relief at the sensation, yelping as he found her breast with a trembling hand, working his way around her nipple as he tweaked it between his fingers. She was momentarily distracted by the sensation as he brought it to a stiff peak before moving his attentions to the opposite breast.

The sensation of being inside of her slick, tight walls was almost too much for Charles, and he felt himself begin to quickly approach the point of no return as he thrust deep inside of her. The angle he was at meant that every thrust resulted in stimulation of the perfect spot inside of Molly, and she felt a sudden burst of pleasure begin to rumble inside of her as he continued to thrust in perfect rhythm. His mouth was right beside her ear and she felt a low grumble from the back of his throat, his Adam's apple hitching against her as he began to lose himself. "Oh fuck, Molly. That feels so good." His eyes slammed closed and he felt the pounding blood in his body all begin to gather in one direction, all senses pooling in his groin as he groaned one more time, deep and for an inordinate length of time as he released inside of her. He retained enough sense to use one hand to stimulate Molly's clitoris with the pad of his thumb. The sudden friction took her by surprise, and she began to shudder instantly in his arms, taken aback by the intensity of the waves that overtook her and gripping his length with her contracting walls.

He remained inside of her for another moment, both basking in the tiny ripples of pleasure that slowly came to an end as their breathing returned to normal. Charles left her for only a moment as he sat up and grabbed the thick blanket that lay at the foot of the bed, pulling it over Molly as she lay beside him. As he arranged the blanket over her, he caressed her swollen stomach tenderly, still hardly daring to believe his luck.

The snow continued to fall in the vast planes of space outside the bedroom window, the white glow from it contrasting against the dark sky. He watched it from his place on the bed as he stroked Molly's hair, lulling her to sleep. He whispered only two words, just loud enough for her to catch them as she drifted off to a peaceful slumber.

"Thank you."

He meant it in so many more ways than one. Charles nestled behind her, warming himself under the blanket, and feeling like the most contented man on the planet before joining her in a dreamless sleep.

His dreams had already come true.


	19. Chapter 19: Set fire to the third bar

8th December 2018

Molly surveyed the dim bar as she stepped into the sudden darkness, a contrast from the stark white, snow covered surface she had just stepped in from. The door slammed behind her, shutting out the cold breeze from the outside world. She shivered regardless as she shook the snowflakes from her arms, trying to adjust to both the sudden warm environment as well as the dim light that felt foreign to her eyes. A couple of lone squaddies played pool in the corner whilst some scattered figures were dotted around the small room. The bar was one of very few establishments within walking distance of the base, and she was almost certain she would find him here.

She was right. His lone figure sat at a high stool at the bar, nursing what remained of a pint as he studied the glass intently, head bowed as though he was trying to find the solutions to his problems at the bottom of the glass. She approached the stool, her walk now beginning to drag with the added weight of her almost seven months pregnant stomach.

"You ain't gonna find it in there" she commented from behind him.

He didn't bother turning, having known that she would track him down eventually. Not even a heavily pregnant Molly could be deterred from sticking her nose in to try and help. Even if it was impossible to resolve the situation.

"Find what?" He countered miserably as he swirled the last of the beer in the glass and poured what was left of it down his throat.

"The answer to your problems. Trust me mate, I watched me old man try for years. It ain't gonna work."

The advice caught in his throat and he let out a low sardonic chuckle as he signalled to the barman for another drink. "Worth a try. And you're a hypocrite by the way."

"How?"

"Let me think Dawesy. D'you remember Newport? Actually, that's a stupid question. You won't, cos you were too rat arsed. So don't try and pretend you've not tried finding the answer in the bottom of a glass either."

He finally turned at that, and they stared each other down, neither willing to back down and be the first to withdraw, until his manners finally prevailed and he conceded the battle, looking away. "You wanna drink?" His head gestured towards the bar as he enquired.

"Nah. I ain't steppin' into a pub full of squaddies and orderin' a tap water thanks." She tried, without much success, to pull herself onto one of the tall stools beside him, causing him to snigger at the sight.

"Glad my beached whale act cheers you up at least." She shot a sarcastic glare at him as she said it, before he finally offered a helping hand and pulled her up to the stool. She reached the cushioned seat and made herself as comfortable as she could these days. Molly kept a hold of his hand for slightly longer than she needed to, her heart constricting at the sight of the sadness in his eyes. All she wanted was to see her friend happy again. He shot her a small rueful smile and pulled his hand away as the barman set a replacement drink in front of him. She sighed, knowing how reluctant he was to discuss the situation but wanting to try and engage him anyway.

"Anyway, it's not fair to bring up Newport-" He raised a quizzical gaze in response to her statement and she continued. "-Alright, I got pissed - look where it got me." She gestured to her stomach and grinned knowingly.

He cast his eye towards her, hiccuping his beer down as he responded. "Exactly. You found the answer. Can't blame a lad for trying can ya?"

"Alright mate, don't get too smart."

They sat in silence for a few short moments, neither willing to mention the elephant in the room. Eventually Molly could bear the oppressive silence for no longer. She stared straight ahead at the selection of spirits behind the bar from her place beside him whilst her hands made work of a beer mat, turning the edges with her fingers so that each hit the wooden surface with a small tap on the bar.

"She loves you. You do know that don't you?"

He laughed at that, although there was no humour in it. "She's got a fucking funny way of showing it Molls."

"She does. I know her, and she's never been like this over anyone before."

He grimaced as he sat his beer down in front of him, turning to look at her as the water pooled in his eyes. He refused to let that water progress into tears. It wasn't worth it.

"She finished with me. Without a second thought Molls. Told me to get over it and go home, that I'd forget all about her." The tears threatened to fall once more and he looked away briefly to quell them, taking a sip of his pint to distract him. "You don't do that if you love somebody."

"You do if you're scared and tryin' to protect them. Look at me after Newport. I ran away as quick as I could, tried to convince myself that it all meant nothing."

"Yeah, cos you thought the boss was married."

"No, Brains. I was running anyway. I only found out about Rebecca after I'd already decided to run. I was terrified of the way I felt for him, and I just tried to push it all away."

"You two are different. This isn't the same."

"Trust me, it's not that different." Molly almost left it at that, but found she couldn't. "She's a wreck, you know?"

She noticed his jaw tighten as she watched him stare straight ahead. He continued to harness his efforts to try not to let the water flow from his eyes, almost losing that battle before blinking it away successfully. "Not surprised. She's gonna miss you at least."

"Oh for fuck's sake, you ain't gonna make this easy are you?" She was becoming frustrated now; he was trying to build a brick wall between them and bury his feelings, but she knew from experience just how miserable it would make him.

"Molls, I'm not bein' funny here. You're my best mate and I know what you're trying to do. But there's no point talkin' about it." He looked at her pointedly. "I'm goin home tomorrow. She's made it clear she's happy for me to go, and that it's done. Let me have a pint and wallow in my own misery for a bit, will ya?"

"At least come back with me and talk to her. She's in a right state Brains. I've never seen her like this, and it's scaring me."

He didn't flinch and fixed his gaze pointedly at the bar. "She hasn't even told you, has she?" He narrowed his eyes as he focused on the wooden surface.

"Told me what?"

"I asked her to come home with me. When she said no, I stupidly thought it was cos she didn't wanna leave this place. So I tried to stay here. I was willing to give everything up just so I could stay out here. With her."

Molly found it difficult to contain her surprise. She had no idea. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It happened fast. By the time I'd told her what I was planning, she finished it. Told me there was no point in me stayin' cos we were finished." He sighed miserably into his pint before gulping down the remainder. "So now, I'm drinking. I'm not coming to see her, cos she's made it clear I'm not what she wants. I don't think I ever was."

"Brains, I know it seems like that, but trust me, I know what she's like. She doesn't let people get close to her, not like you have. I think she's realised how much you mean to her and she's panicked. She's pushing you away."

"Well-" he slammed the glass back down "-it worked."

"Please? I'm asking you as your mate. I think you can fix this." Molly tried to lift the fog of despair which she could see had pulled him down.

His head remained bowed, his stare still fixed on a particular grain of wood on the bar. "I'm done being the one to make the first move. If she wants to talk to me, she can come and find me herself." He signalled to the barman for another pint, trying not to watch with concern as Molly carefully stepped down from the stool, holding her bump. She realised that the discussion was pointless. He wasn't going to be convinced.

"Fair enough. Don't say I didn't try." She walked to the other side of his stool and placed a consoling hand on his back. "Don't get too pissed. You've got a long flight tomorrow."

At that he looked up, and she finally saw the rogue tear that had forced its way from the side of his eye and down his cheek. "Thanks Molls. For trying." He swallowed back the remainder of his emotions. She wiped the track of the tear away with her thumb and pulled his reluctant form into a hug. "I'm so sorry mate" she whispered in his ear.

The hug was brief and she stepped away, reluctant to leave him but knowing him well enough to register that he needed to be alone. "I'll see you tomorrow? We'll come and see you off. Me and Charles I mean."

He shook his head. "You don't need to. You'll be back a couple of days after me anyway."

"I want to. And you know what he's like - he'll wanna check you're all behaving before he lets you loose to go home."

He nodded, clearly not wanting to argue the toss with her. "I'll see ya tomorrow Mols."

* * *

As Molly made her way out of the bar, she braced herself for a return to the winter conditions. The cold wind assaulted her cheeks; the thick flakes of snow falling thick and fast around her. She could still make out the lone car parked outside through the blizzard conditions, and made her way slowly towards it. On witnessing her slow approach, Charles jumped out of the car to open the passenger door, guiding her into the seat by the palm of his hand on her lower back, despite her protests that she could manage to get into a car by herself.

As she made herself comfortable, she watched him jog back round to the driver's door, launching it open to sit hurriedly back down. He rubbed his hands together in exaggeration, as though he'd trekked through the winter conditions for hours, rather than left the comfort of a warm car for a couple of minutes. He stopped his movements to lean across the seat and deliver a sweet, brief kiss to her frozen lips. She grinned in response to the moment of affection, her fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment.

The contact was broken after a couple of seconds as he turned his attention back to the car. "It's bloody freezing" he exclaimed as he turned the engine and began to pull out of the parking space. "I take it you found him? Is he in as bad shape as Julia?"

"Pretty much. Although, at least I know what's happened now." At Charles' quizzical gaze, she clarified her comment. "She finished with him, told him to go home and forget about her."

Charles let out a low whistle at the comment. "Shit. Poor Brains."

"He ain't in a good place."

"I can imagine." He knew exactly what would follow, and tried to dissuade her before she even voiced it. "I don't think there's much you can do about it."

She glared at him. "I can at least try. They're my mates."

He sighed, knowing already that she was going to push him on this. "I know that, Molly. But don't you think you've got enough on your plate at the moment? We're flying in a couple of days. You're 7 months pregnant, and I don't want you getting any more stressed than you need to be. You shouldn't get involved."

Her glare at his thoughtlessness continued. "Alright. I'll leave it. But just you remember that if Brains hadn't 'gotten involved' when the two of us were being fuckmuppets, then I wouldn't have even made it to that bloody reunion in Newport. I'd still be out here driving myself mad, and you'd be back at home, living in misery with Rebecca."

Charles had the good grace to look embarrassed at his moment of selfishness, clearing his throat with a sense of embarrassment. "Point taken. But I honestly don't think there's much you can do. Do you really think you're going to talk Julia round when she's made up her mind on something? I know you can work magic on most people, but she's not most people Molly."

"I know. I dunno what to do if I'm honest."

He sighed again, although this time with resignation. Her earlier words about the support Brains had given to her had registered with him. "We'll work something out." Charles lifted her hand to drop a kiss into her still cold knuckles. Her gaze had changed from irritation to something far softer as she realised that his stance on not getting involved had changed. Then another thought occurred to her.

"You said I can work magic." She observed in a sing-song tone as a small grin lit her features. He observed the sparkle in her eye and wished he could preserve it forever.

"Shit, did I? Must have got you mixed up with somebody else." He watched the road ahead of him with a grin as he noticed her beginning to watch him intently from the corner of his eye.

She deliberately placed a firm hand on his upper thigh, delighting in the way his breath suddenly hitched in his chest as she did it. Her hand inched a slow path upwards as she smirked. "You sure about that?"

All it took was a little more movement towards her destination and a firm grip between his legs before she felt his body tense in anticipation and heard a sharp intake of breath. His eyes fluttered ever so slightly in their sockets before he reluctantly lifted the offending hand from his groin, replacing it on Molly's leg, with his own hand still clasping it tightly. His voice had become something husky and uneven as he stuttered his next sentence.

"I'll end up crashing the car if you carry on like that."

She giggled lightly, enjoying the feeling of his hand caressing hers as he gripped it onto her thigh to keep it from wandering again. She leaned towards him and whispered in his ear.

"I'd best save the magic for when you've stopped the engine then."

There was a marked increase in speed as the car worked its way home through the trails of snow; with both occupants continuing to steal lingering looks at each other as the large vehicle took them home to each other's arms, erupting into laughter every so often as they caught each other staring.

* * *

9th December 2018

The next morning both Molly and Charles stood surveying the sight in front of them as the assembled platoon prepared to board the military aircraft that would fly them home. Since Molly would have to take a separate flight, Charles had elected to stay for an extra day and accompany her; his worry over the long journey in her heavily pregnant state prevailing over his sense of duty to his men. She had tried to fight him on it, but the argument was swiftly put to bed when he reminded her that she would be travelling alone if she continued to argue the toss.

Molly quickly caught sight of the face that she dreaded seeing right now. His eyes were red and bloodshot; he had obviously paid no attention to her advice not to drink too much. She hoped with a brief sense of foolish optimism that he would look better close up. The closer he got, the more she realised that was a foolish wish. He looked utterly broken.

On her return to the flat the previous night, she had decided to have it out with Julia, and try to make her see how foolish she was being. Only there was no sign of her, just a text message to her phone with only three words.

_Don't wait up_.

Don't wait up? She was beyond bloody furious with her friend. She hadn't come home all night, and Molly was going stir crazy with worry over the whole situation. There was no way Molly could confess that Julia had stayed away all evening to Brains; he would automatically assume the worst and take it badly. So instead she painted a grin into her face and pulled him into a hug, ignoring the curious stares from the other members of the platoon who already regarded her as a source of gossip and interest - the Major's heavily pregnant girlfriend.

"See you in a few days, you muppet."

He gripped her tightly, and she almost felt him deflate in her arms. "She's not coming, is she?" Although she couldn't see his face, she could hear the pain in his voice. His last sense of hope that it would be resolved was gone, and her heart broke for him. This time it was Molly who fought back the pooling tears as she continued to hold him tightly.

"No. I'm sorry"

He seemed to collect himself with the final confirmation from her as he pulled away, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Never would have worked anyway" he muttered under his breath. He moved to Charles to shake his hand tightly. Both knew that there should have been a more formal approach given the ranks of the two men, but neither cared.

"See you in a few days, Bossman."

"Take care of yourself Brains."

"You take care of these two on the way back" he motioned to Molly and her swollen stomach before lowering his voice so that only Charles could hear. "She's special, Boss. I hope you know how lucky you are."

Charles addressed him with complete seriousness. "I do. Trust me, I thank my lucky stars every day."

The undercurrent of the conversation wasn't lost on either man, and Charles issued a sympathetic smile before Brains made to leave, turning his back to call on Molly before he went.

"See ya later Dawesy."

Molly and Charles stood hand in hand as they watched him depart, ready to board the plane with his colleagues. What none of them noticed, was the tall, red-haired figure in the distance who watched the group of squaddies depart with a hitch in her throat; her body wracked by a series of quiet sobs as she stood watching the man she loved leave at her request. She whispered quietly under her breath as she watched him go.

"Goodbye."

* * *

**AN. Thanks very much to those of you who are continuing to read and persist with this. Hope the focus on the Brains and Julia story didn't disappoint anybody. Next chapter will be set back in the UK and will have more of a Molly / Charles focus. Thank you especially to those of you who have given such lovely comments on the story - you might not realise how much they mean, but they are truly what keeps the motivation going.**

**Song was Set the fire to the third bar, by Snow Patrol**


	20. Christmas (Baby, please come home)

_**24th December 2018**_

There was an incessant chill in the air as 14 young boys ran the length of the sports field, warming up for the football game they were about to participate in. The fact that it was also Christmas Eve ensured that they were excited enough already, and the prospect of completing the last game of the year had sealed the sense of anticipation in the air. Sam James thought he couldn't be any more excited. That feeling was suddenly undermined as he saw the tall figure striding in his direction, approaching the side of the pitch with a warm smile lighting up his face. Sam didn't even stop to think about leaving the warm-up session, tunnelling his way towards his father with a sense of energy that still amazed Charles, all of these months after the ill-health that had almost taken him from his family.

"Dad!" he shouted as he ran towards him, ignoring the rigid look on his mother's face as she watched him leave the pitch and throw his arms around Charles' neck. After a tight cuddle, he was dropped back down to earth with an affectionate ruffle of his hair.

"Go and warm up Scamp, you don't want to miss the last game of the year." At Sam's uncertain look passing between his mother and father, Charles adopted his more authoritative tone. "Go on - I'll still be here when you finish. Won't I, Rebecca?"

His ex-wife snorted under her breath, staring straight ahead at the pitch rather than at the reunion between father and son. "Sticking around isn't exactly a strength of yours, is it Charles?"

Sam's gaze became even more uncertain as Charles sighed quietly, shaking his head at the ground. He collected himself and looked his son in the eye, ignoring the bait. "I'll wait here for you. Maybe when you've finished we can go and get some food." At that, the coach began to shout Sam's name, and his mind was made up, leaving his parents to watch his back as he ran towards the assembled team.

Rebecca waited until he was out of earshot before she began, looking around to make sure that the other assembled groups of parents' were also out of hearing distance. "Just what exactly are you doing here?" Her voice was low and controlled; she obviously wasn't particularly surprised by his sudden appearance,despite her apparent unhappiness with his presence.

He waved at Sam, who had looked back at them to ensure they weren't arguing. Both parents fixed mock smiles on their faces as they spoke through gritted teeth. "You didn't exactly leave me with much choice - you've deliberately been keeping him away from me since I got back from Canada."

"It's called protecting him. And anyway, don't you have bigger problems to deal with?"

"My son isn't the problem, you are, Rebecca. And anyway what other problems do you suppose I'm dealing with that would take priority over my son?"

"Well you have a whole new set of priorities now, don't you? I'm sure you won't be able to put Sam first when the new '_child'_-'" she spat with distaste "-arrives. I think you'll find I'm only trying to protect him from the hurt he's inevitably going to feel when you have a new family to put first."

He drew a breath, trying not to show his irritation. "Just who exactly is 'hurt' Rebecca? You, or Sam?" She looked away from him at that and he continued to try and address her with a level of patience he currently didn't feel, knowing that he was correct with his observation. "Sam is my son. He's my priority, and he always will be. You really think I'm going to forget that just because I'll have two children soon?"

"I don't know anything about you anymore Charles." She lowered her head, and he began to feel her anger dissipate as her voice softened. "I'm not sure I ever really did."

The sadness of everything that had passed between them suddenly hit Charles, and he placed a hand on her arm, feeling her flinch as he made contact. It felt alien to touch her, and they both felt immediately uncomfortable. Her blue eyes made contact with his, and he could see the pain in them as she looked away quickly. "I'm truly sorry if I hurt you. I want you to know that. But I can't be sorry for what happened between Molly and I. You've known since I came home from that last bloody tour of Afghan that I was in love with her. I was never able to hide it from you."

"No" she whispered under her breath. "You never hid it."

With her quiet resignation now apparent, he continued "I don't want us to make things any more difficult than they have to be. You're happy with Rob-" he ignored the quiet laugh that escaped her mouth as he said it, not wanting to deal with whatever the issue was there. It wasn't his business. "Molly and I are having a baby, and we're getting married. We've both moved on Rebecca. Can we please try and at least be civil, if only for Sam's sake?"

An inordinately long period of time passed, with Rebecca seemingly mulling over the situation. "Fine" she muttered, noting the concerned looks that Sam kept pointing in their direction. "I'll try."

* * *

Charles turned his key in the lock of the front door of the flat, beyond relieved to finally have drawn a close to the awkward afternoon with Rebecca. The common link of Sam meant that they would always need to be in each other's lives to some extent, and he could only hope that time would begin to heal the wounds that existed in the fragmented relationships between himself, Rebecca and Molly. Sam was an innocent party caught between two very difficult places. Charles knew that he would have to do what he could to try and make life easier for his son, even if that meant involving himself in awkward moments with Rebecca to try and clear the air a little.

As he entered the hallway, the warm air greeted him and he heard the sound of music playing from the living room. His lips twitched upward into his first real smile since he had left Molly in bed that morning. As he moved closer to the room, removing his heavy jacket and shoes, he could make out the Christmas tune playing as she sang absent-mindedly along to it. He swung his head round the entrance to the living room to check what she was up to; his heart warming in his chest, and smile growing as he took in the sight before him.

Molly had taken to stealing his shirts, claiming that they were the only thing she could still wear comfortably over her full stomach. She was currently wearing his crisp white dress shirt, and by the looks of it, very little else. Her back was turned to him as she hung decorations on quite possibly the smallest, most forlorn plastic tree he had ever seen in his life. It was almost comical to see the tiny green branches adorned in fairy lights and the decorations which she was currently placing on its lacklustre twigs. She still hadn't noticed his entrance, and he leaned against the wooden door with his arms crossed tightly, clearing his throat to draw attention to himself.

At the noise, Molly spun round, the panic in her face quickly replaced by annoyance at his silent lingering.

"My god! You tryin' to give me a Julius?"

He continued to lean against the wooden surface, his eyes twinkling at the sight of her in their home, making it her own. She watched his amusement as he smirked at her, wondering just how somebody could make the simple act of leaning so bloody sexy. It really was unfair how he managed to look so drop dead gorgeous all of the time, whereas she was back to being constantly knackered, and so enormous that only men's clothes fitted her. But none of that actually seemed to bother him that much as his eyes wandered up and down her body. She had taken a bath to try and ease the ache in her back before attempting the Christmas decorations. Her hair was still tied in a damp knot on the top of her head, and his shirt covered her top half.

"Sorry" he grinned, not looking sorry in the slightest. "What's all this?" He inclined his head towards the mini tree and it's garish decorations. Her cheeks began to take on a shade of pink, and she twirled some tinsel awkwardly in her hands, feeling the strands of gold brush against her fingers.

"Well, you said it didn't feel like Christmas yet. So I thought I'd try and do something about it." She could see that he was trying his hardest not to point out the pathetic appearance of the tree and tried to hold back a giggle at his politeness. "Bloody shops haven't got anything left by Christmas Eve. Some spotty teenager in Tesco had to track this thing down for me." She pointed at the offending tree, now properly giggling at how ridiculous it looked. "It wasn't really worth fighting through the crowds for it."

He could eventually hold it in no longer and let out a small laugh before he spoke. "It's..."

"Bleedin' tiny? Daftest looking attempt at a Christmas tree you've ever seen? Something you wanna lob out the window?" She helpfully supplied as she continued to giggle.

"Nah. It's..perfect." A wide smile continued to decorate his face as he watched the way the fairy lights illuminated hers with a low white light. He pulled her towards him, resting his chin on her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her cheeks in the soft woollen jumper that he wore.

"If you say so" she confirmed to his chest, her voice heavy with the suspicion that he was teasing her, but nonetheless happy to be in his arms. "How'd it go with Rebecca? Or do I even need to ask?"

"Not quite as bad as you'd think" he confirmed cryptically.

"Well you came back alive, and with all your bits intact, so that's a surprise. Though I might have to give you a full medical later, just to check." She pulled her face back from where it was burrowed in his chest for the last sentence, watching his eyes darken at the thought.

"I should hope so too" he drew loose circles on her back as he pulled her back into his hold. "I could get used to coming back home to you not wearing much, by the way. I like it."

She hit his chest lightly and ineffectively with her fist. "I've just had a bath, you perv."

"And there was I, thinking that you were my Christmas present."

"Nah mate, you'd only unwrap me and be disappointed." She said it in a joking tone, but he could hear the element of unhappiness in her comment. Charles sighed into her hair, very much used to her self-deprecating comments, but not sure how to prevent them. So instead he sat on the plush couch, sinking down into its cushions, and pulling her towards him as he did so. She gladly perched on his lap, enjoying the warm comfort of his arms. Her job of decorating the tree was long forgotten, and instead she focused on his eyes as they searched hers.

"What?" She enquired as his eyes searched her, taking the sight of her bare legs stretched out over his lap and protruding onto the couch. He took the opportunity to undo the bottom two buttons of the shirt that shielded her top half from him, exposing her rounded stomach.

His eyes darkened as he enjoyed the view set out in front of him. "You really have no idea, do you?"

She cocked her head in his direction, looking mystified. "There's a whole lot I ain't got an idea about, you're gonna have to narrow it down a bit."

"Unwrapping you would be the undisputed highlight of my Christmas Day. Infact, I think I should just do it on Christmas Eve instead." He continued to pull at the buttons of the shirt before he felt her hand still his. He watched her eyes, but instead of the desire he felt, all he saw were tears beginning to course down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Unable to keep the concern from his voice, he placed a hand under her chin and brought it towards him so that she couldn't look away as she was currently trying to do.

"How come you always know what to say?"

He laughed under his breath, a low rumble in his chest as he did it. "I don't. Christ, if you'd witnessed the conversation I had with Rebecca this afternoon, you'd know that."

"You know what to say to me."

"Well, you're a special case."

"If you say so." Her tears continued to fall, and she looked at him with a trembling chin, barely getting the words out. "I miss her."

He pulled her back towards him with a sigh, hoping against hope that he wouldn't say the wrong thing. "I know."

She pulled away as she sniffed and swept her arm across her now tear filled face, giggling slightly as he grimaced."Did you just wipe your nose on my best shirt?"

"Yep"

"Thought so. Carry on" He sighed with mock indignation as she laughed more forcefully this time, tears still streaming down her face.

"Fucking hormones" she muttered under her breath as she continued to laugh and cry at the same time. He laughed alongside her until she had finally calmed down. "I'm ridiculous. Sittin' here nearly naked in your lap and all I can do is cry."

"Well, I'm trying not to take it too personally" he joked, rubbing her back as she laughed under her breath. She sighed contentedly this time as she caught him staring at her again. His gaze darkened once more as his body began to react to her proximity to him, barely covered by a partially buttoned shirt. He ran his hands along the length of her thighs, feeling the hardness in his groin increase ten-fold as he did it.

Unfortunately, Molly was a steady ten paces behind him, still mulling over his company for the afternoon. "You reckon Rebecca'll come round then?"

Thoughts of his ex-wife flooded his brain, and he groaned loudly in frustration as his head flew back onto the cushion. "You really know how to kill a hard-on, don't you?"

She tried not to howl with laughter at the discomfort in his face, and shifted in his lap so that her hand rested on his hardness. "Sorry" she whispered in his ear. "That better?" she enquired as she gently rubbed up and down against his jean clad bottom-half with her hand. His breath caught in his chest and he half groaned with a mixture of anticipation and discomfort.

Darkness had now completely fallen, with only the faint glow of the fairy lights from the tree lighting the corner of the small room. As Charles continued to enjoy her rhythmic movements through the firm fabric of his jeans, he unbuttoned the remainder of the white shirt, and enjoyed the sight of her full breasts peeking out from the open section of the material. He ran his hand over the bare skin, feeling her shiver at the light touch of his fingers. She didn't let him enjoy the view for long, moving from her place on his lap to kneel before him on the couch. With a sly grin, she maintained eye contact as she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down over his hips, his body having to shift to comply with her demands. His brain could barely keep up with her sudden switch in pace, and she grinned wickedly at the unrestrained pleasure which marked his face, grasping his length with her small hand. Her engagement ring glittered in the low light, bringing him an even more complete sense of pleasure. He couldn't quite believe his luck that she was actually going to be his wife.

"I'll make it up to you, shall I?" she teased as she moved her wrist with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her open shirt giving him another visual treat. "Merry Christmas" she whispered, before she leaned forward and took him in her mouth while he watched intently; all thoughts of Rebecca well and truly banished from his brain.

* * *

The incessant ringing of his mobile phone pulled him from a deep sleep at around 1am, his body unwillingly removing itself from where he was wrapped around a very naked Molly. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to retain some sense of consciousness, and remember where on earth he had left it. After a few seconds he pulled himself out of bed and into the hall to retrieve the noisy invader from his coat pocket. As he saw the name that illuminated the screen, he sighed with uncertainty, regretting the fact that he had even gotten involved with this in the first place. He answered it with a sense of reluctance.

"You do realise there's a time difference between us, don't you"

"Sorry" the distant voice replied, hesitancy thick in the air. After a few seconds of silence, the voice continued.

"I got your message. This was the first time I've been able to work up the guts to phone back."

His tone softened at her obvious discomfort, and he tried to gauge how to play the conversation. "Did you think about what I said the last time we spoke?"

"Yes" an awkward pause followed. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Julia" he rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to disguise the impatience that was about to overflow into the conversation. "I can only help you up to a point. If you don't actually want to do this, then remind me why I'm helping?"

She ignored his annoyed tone, her mind wandering to the only place it had been over the last few weeks. "How is he?" She tried to sound nonchalant, and failed miserably.

"He's shit, by all accounts. What else did you expect?"

"I dunno. I just thought this would be easier. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?"

"Well I think we've all established that rule doesn't exactly work for you two." His patience was fast running out, and he quickly decided to stop pushing the issue. "Listen, its 1am on Christmas Day. I need to go. I've done my part, the rest is up to you now."

She remained silent, although he could make out the hitches in her breathing as she cried. He tried one last time. "Julia. I've been where you are. It's sad, and it's miserable, knowing that you messed up the best thing in your life. Don't let it carry on any longer."

The hitched breathing began to tail off as she regained some of her composure. "Thank you. I'll let you know how it goes, ok? And Charles?" she caught him before he moved to end the call. "Take care of them both."

"I will. Think about what I said, ok?"

He signed off with a sigh, hoping to god that he hadn't made a colossal mistake in trying to remedy the situation, before rejoining Molly in bed. She shivered as his now cold body pressed against her, his hand stroking her stomach as it always did at night.

"Who were you talking to?" she muttered sleepily.

"Nobody" he smoothed her hair as he tried to rid himself of the guilt he felt at lying to her. He comforted himself with the thought of how happy she would be if his plan worked. "Go back to sleep."

::::

**AN - thanks again to everybody who has taken the time to read and review. I know it's not necessarily the most dramatic of storylines, but I'm hoping that those of you who are still reading will enjoy the conclusion! There are two chapters left till we reach the end of the story. There may just be an appearance by baby James in the next one...**

**Song was Christmas (baby please come home). And yes, I know it's the May bank holiday, but I've spent most of it visualising Christmas and writing ff when I should be doing housework.. :-)**


	21. Chapter 21: Real Love (Part 1)

_**21st January 2019**_

It was on a dark grey day towards the end of January that Lily James finally made her entrance into the world. After panicking her parents with the prospect of a premature appearance all of those weeks previously, she eventually arrived just 3 weeks early – a tiny, 6lb bundle, with a full head of dark brown hair like both of her parents.

Only a few hours after her arrival, Charles found himself resting in an armchair beside Molly's sleeping form, with Lily also burrowed on his chest fast asleep. A pink babygrow which was massively too big for her tiny frame surrounded her as she lay on the rise and fall of her father's beating heart. Molly was also fast asleep after an intense 13 hours of contractions and various threats to harm certain essential body parts if Charles ever ventured near her again.

Around 7 hours in, she declared that she couldn't do it anymore, that they would have to take her in for a section, and that she was damned if she was going to have any more gas and air and grit her teeth through any more contractions. Then, when the pain really dialled up to unbearable levels, and he'd genuinely feared that she couldn't carry on, she suddenly morphed into the Molly Dawes he recognised from Afghan. The one who didn't give a toss about anything that anybody said or thought about her. She could have been back on that minefield, crawling through the rough ground with only one destination in mind. She travelled into her own zone of dogged determination, and survived the remaining hours of labour with a series of expletives and curses that had the midwives blushing and Charles sniggering quietly under his breath as he gripped her hand throughout.

At 8pm, after all of the pushing, and swearing, and willing her to arrive safely, Lily was finally delivered with no complications. As the midwife wrapped her in a blanket, and placed a tiny pink woollen hat on her head, Charles could only focus on the set of tiny, bright blue eyes that fluttered wide open and gazed straight at him. Having been on tour when Sam was born, he had been determined to make the most of his presence at his daughter's birth. He thought he was prepared for the rush of emotions that he knew he would feel upon finally meeting her. But the overwhelming sense of joy and sheer euphoria when his stunned gaze met those wide-open eyes was nothing that he could ever have attempted to prepare for. He took the small, wrapped-up bundle from the midwife, only feeling her in his arms for a few seconds before he placed her carefully onto Molly's chest, and loosened the blanket so that they could have skin to skin contact as soon as possible. The sight of an exhausted, but exhilarated Molly cradling their newborn baby on her chest under the blanket brought a rising sob of emotion from deep in his throat. As a force of habit from all his years in the army, he immediately tried to quell it; to stop himself from showing everything that he felt. He soon gave up on that pointless task and drank in the sight, wondering if he could ever top his feeling of elation. Molly looked up from her newborn daughter to search his face, and confirm with him that everything really was as amazing as it seemed.

"She's perfect" she whispered as she beamed at him, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks. Despite himself, Charles couldn't restrain his emotions for a second longer and joined her, sitting on the edge of the bed beside them, with each of his hands cradling each of his girls to complete the picture of a new family joined together in happiness.

Once the adrenaline of the moment had worn off and Lily had eventually been successfully fed, both Molly and her daughter fell into the restful sleep that they needed. Charles had been sitting in the chair beside the clear plastic cot in which Lily slept, watching as she snuffled and made very slight movements as she lay on her side. He could have watched her sleep forever. Upon the first tiny little cry that escaped from her mouth, he could resist no longer, lifting her from the plastic enclosure and placing her on his chest, where they stayed for another half hour. There was nothing more comforting than the feel of her tiny heartbeat on top of his, and he quickly realised that he no longer had one woman in control of his heart; he now had two. He was a lost cause in that respect.

He was surrounded by darkness in the hospital room, the midwives having taken pity on him and allowed him to stay long into the small hours of the morning, beyond the ward's closing time. There were a few muffled, remote cries from babies in other parts of the ward, but nothing loud enough to disturb the quiet peace as Lily slept on his chest. As he sat in the dark, unable to even consider sleeping, the only light which illuminated the room came from the glow of an outside streetlight and the full moon in the sky. His attention was suddenly drawn to a small yawn and stretch from the tiny body that lay on top of him, and as he looked down onto the tiny bundle, he saw that she was awake again for the first time since that moment when he had handed her to Molly. He transferred her carefully to the crook of his arm and placed his index finger in her grasp as he watched her, enthralled.

"Hello, Lily" he whispered so as not to disturb Molly. "I think you might just be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life."

He hadn't noticed Molly crack an eye open from his side and whisper under her breath.

"Don't listen to him Lily, he says that to all the girls."

She still had her eyes shut, but a satisfied smile lit up her face regardless. She eventually opened her eyes and met Charles' as he beamed at her, unable to tear the grin from his face. "I can't believe she's finally here."

Molly's smile soon faded as she tried to shift on the bed. "I would agree with you, but everything bloody hurts so much that I _can_ believe it." Charles used his free hand to grab Molly's and bring it to his lips. "You were amazing. I'm so proud of you." He let the moment pass before he added "even if you did threaten to chop my nuts off before you ever let me near you again."

"That'd be nothing compared to what my bits have just been through!" Her indignation was apparent before she signalled for him to hand Lily over to her. "She'll need feeding, it's been a couple of hours."

"I think she's enjoying her Daddy time, thanks very much" he continued to cradle her protectively, his indignance matching Molly's. That was, until the most ear-splitting cry erupted from his daughter's mouth as her hunger caught up with her. Molly raised an eyebrow in victory as she watched the discomfort rise in his face.

"Ok, you win. I think she might be hungry" he winced as the cries grew even louder and handed her over. "How is it possible for someone so tiny to make such a noise."

The screaming intensified by the second, Lily's face turning redder as her cries increased, until with a little encouragement Molly latched her on as the midwife had shown her. Silence suddenly prevailed within a beat. They both grinned as she guzzled happily.

"She's her mother's daughter alright. Nightmare when she's hungry." He remarked quietly, his now ever present grin unable to fade in the slightest.

"Oi. You can't take the piss out of me anymore. Not after what I've just been through for you."

"Now where would the fun be in that Dawesy?" He whispered with a smirk, before silence took over and they both closed their eyes while Lily continued to guzzle.

* * *

_**22nd January 2019**_

"Er. You want me to shove off while you're sortin' that out?" Brains rubbed the short hair on the back of his neck and shifted awkwardly in the armchair whilst trying to look anywhere but at the sight of Molly removing her sleeping daughter from her breast after a marathon feeding session. The white ceiling of the hospital suddenly seemed as good a place as any to fix his gaze, and he stared at it as he waited for a response.

"By sorting that' out, I take it you mean feedin' my daughter?" Molly enquired, taking great delight in his complete discomfort.

He shook his head, still staring at the ceiling. "I just mean, you've got your tit out. I can go somewhere else for a minute till you're decent?"

"The only tit I can see in this room is sitting right beside me" she teased him with a gleam in her eye.

"Yeah, alright. Glad you didn't lose your sense of humour along with your dignity in that delivery room" he shot back with a grin.

Molly was finally successful in her efforts to detach Lily, and covered herself enough to allow Brains to stop staring at the ceiling.

"You wanna hold her?" She laughed as she watched the contented look on her daughter's face as droplets of milk dribbled from her lips. Her newborn daughter looked drunk and delighted from the sheer volume of milk she had guzzled before falling fast asleep.

Brains looked distinctly uncomfortable with even the suggestion of holding her, until Molly insisted, urging him to move closer so that she could transfer Lily to his arms. He clumsily accepted the sleeping baby, holding his breath until he was sure that he was supporting her head with the crook of his arm, and that he wasn't in any danger of dropping her, reassured by the fact that Molly seemed relaxed enough to let him continue. He relaxed slowly back into the armchair, Lily now settled sleepily in his arms after a slight grizzle during the transfer.

"She's beautiful" he whispered as he watched her tiny chest rise and fall. "How did you two fuckmuppets manage to make something so perfect?" He whispered under his breath.

Molly grinned at the sight of him holding her tiny daughter with such care. "I dunno mate, just got lucky I guess."

A comfortable silence fell upon them as he continued to watch the contented baby sleeping in his arms while Molly kept a watchful eye on the pair from her hospital bed. After a few minutes, he finally pulled his gaze away to address Molly, pausing with a degree of hesitation before he finally spoke.

"Sorry"

Molly watched him with confusion, wondering if she was supposed to know what he was on about. "What you got to be sorry about?"

He took a deep breath before he continued. "All the time you were out there in Canada, before you and the bossman got back together. I kept tellin' you to get a grip and get past it. I didn't understand at the time. Thought it was something you could just forget about if you tried. I was selfish - I wanted you to move on and come back home." He paused, before looking at her with sincerity in his eyes. "I'm glad it worked out for you two in the long run."

She didn't miss the pain that resonated in his voice. It was the first time since their return home that he had even come close to alluding to his hurt over Julia, and Molly paused before she responded, uncertain of what to say, eventually whispering her response.

"I miss her too. I know it's not the same, but I miss her."

Brains nodded, unwilling to speak about it anymore, swallowing hard as he concentrated once more on Lily, still sleeping in his arms. They were disturbed by a quiet knock on the door, the visitor not waiting for a response before he entered. Charles almost bounded into the room, excitement evident in his step

"Hello beautiful. Boy have I got a surprise for you!" he grinned with excitement. That was until he registered the appearance of Brains in the chair next to Molly, holding his daughter, and stopped in his tracks. His face fell.

_This wasn't part of the plan._

"What are you doing here?" Charles asked in an accusing tone before he could stop himself. Molly looked stunned at his tone before she took the lead in responding. "I asked him to come. Don't be so bloody rude."

"Sorry" he sheepishly backtracked, having realised how hostile he must have sounded. His mind suddenly whirred into overdrive, trying to work out how he could prevent the horrible moment of awkwardness that was undoubtedly about to happen.

"I just wasn't expecting anyone to be here." He continued to hang back from the scene with a level of anxiety. Charles wasn't a man prone to panic, but the appearance of the man in front of him wasn't something he had accounted for. He quickly realised that there was nothing he could do, and braced himself for the inevitable. Molly was going to kill him.

He hadn't closed the door properly behind him, and it occurred to him as he realised the person lingering behind it would hear everything, that Molly wasn't the only one who would kill him.

_Fuck._

Molly took in his mounting sense of awkwardness and could only wonder what had come over him. "Charles. What the bleedin' hell is wrong?" He struggled for an answer, before he was interrupted.

"I'm what's wrong"

The familiar Irish accent rang out from behind the door as she walked in behind Charles to an audience of two shocked faces. Julia had known as she heard the conversation in the room that she had to make a move and enter, but nothing could have prepared her for the punch she felt to the gut when Brains' gaze moved to Lily and didn't falter away from the bundle in his arms. If he wouldn't even look in her direction, she didn't hold out much hope for a conversation with him, never mind anything else. She gazed at Molly with a watery smile instead, hoping that at least one of them would be pleased to see her.

"Jules?" Molly cried in astonishment. "What are you doing here?!"

"Surprising you?" Julia offered weakly, before moving to the side of the bed to embrace her friend. They hugged tightly before Molly winced and pulled away.

"Sorry" she apologised as she sheepishly admitted "it's these bloody tits - they're agony!" Both women laughed through their watery tears as Julia hesitantly stood again and forced herself to look at Brains once more. His gaze had moved from the floor, and he stood nervously, Lily still in his arms, desperate to do something with the nervous energy that suddenly consumed him.

"Hi?" Julia whispered to him hesitantly, following him with her eyes in an attempt to force him to engage with her and look her in the eye. He didn't respond, approaching the other side of the bed before leaning down to Molly and handing Lily gently to her, his trembling hands the only clue that he was affected. Molly knew better than to try and persuade him to stay; the determination was set in his eyes. After he handed the baby over, he dropped a kiss onto Molly's cheek and did his level best not to look at the other female occupant of the room as he made for the door.

"Congratulations." He issued a polite farewell to a sheepish Charles, who stood, arms crossed and nearest to the door with a grimace painted on his face and his gaze fixed downwards. Brains' tone didn't match his words as he pulled at the handle of the door to depart the room. Julia moved towards the exit at the same time, and caught his wrist before he managed to exit, He pulled back as though the contact had burned him.

"You're not even gonna speak to me?" Julia's tear-filled eyes searched his for the first time.

He braced himself, knowing that he needed to get out of there as soon as possible before he imploded.

"What's the point? Too busy gettin' on with my life, like I was told to." He voiced the words with a cool distance and icy stare that was in stark contrast to his current internal emotional state. The stunned silence from Julia as she stepped back allowed him to leave without challenge this time, and the slam of the door resonated in the quiet room as Julia lifted a hand to her forehead in quiet despair.

Molly held her daughter protectively in her arms from her place on the bed, before her eyes travelled from Charles to Julia and back with an interrogating gaze.

"Does somebody wanna tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

* * *

**AN - oh dear! Poor Brains! (I do love him, my favourite member of 2 section, without question).**

**Thanks so much again for your lovely comments on the last update and on this story in general. It's felt like a bit of a hard slog at times, but we're almost there, and the next chapter will be the last installment in the story. Hope you enjoyed this one! I know I didn't cover the birth in great detail, but after trying a couple of different approaches, this eventually felt like the right way to take it. **

**Song for this chapter (and for the next) is Real Love, by Tom Odell. **


	22. Chapter 22: Real Love (Part 2)

_**22nd January 2019 (cont)**_

"Well? What the bloody hell's happening?" Molly looked between the two faces in front of her. Charles still looking extremely sheepish, whilst Julia stared at the door which had just closed, with tears swimming in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry Molly" she backed away. "Charles will tell you what's been going on." She gestured towards the door as she stepped back. "I need to go after him. I need to explain."

She followed the path out of the door that Brains had exited only moments previously before Charles risked a glance up at Molly, who was looking utterly confused by the events of the previous five minutes. He eventually broke the silence, clearing his throat with a degree of hesitation. "I know I told you not to get involved. But I did instead."

"Charles?" her tone was wary. "What did you do?"

"I got in touch with Julia after we left Canada. I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. It was thanks to Brains that we even managed to be in the same room at that reunion. We might not have found each other again if it hadn't been for him."

"Glad you at least listened to something I said. Go on?"

"She wasn't in a good place when I called. She realised what a mistake she'd made, but didn't have the first clue how to go about fixing it. So I came up with a way I thought I could help. I saw a couple of roles being advertised at the QEH in Birmingham and put her in touch with Dr Robertson."

Confusion still reigned with Molly. "Dr Robertson?"

"Yes. He's a trauma surgeon. He treated me in Birmingham when I was first brought back from Afghanistan. We kept in touch through the years."

"So Julia's applied for a job in Birmingham?" Her eyes began to sparkle with barely contained enthusiasm. It was infectious, and Charles grinned widely. "She did. Infact, she aced it. Blew their socks off - apparently they were desperate for her to take the job. I knew she was coming over today to meet her new colleagues and see the hospital before she moves over permanently in a month or two. I convinced her she should come and see you and Lily before she spoke to Brains." Molly shook her head at the way it had worked out and he continued. "Not my finest move, I'll admit."

"Let me get this straight. Julia's moving to Birmingham, and you helped her get a job? And you've been keepin' all this from me?"

"Well, yes. I didn't want you to get your hopes up. And then when I knew it was definitely happening, which was only a few days ago, I wanted it to be a surprise." He couldn't read the expression on her face and worried he had genuinely upset her on what should be a happy day. "I'm sorry - I fucked up."

She finally smiled at him and he let out a deep breath that he didn't even realise he was holding. "You didn't fuck up!"

"I didn't?"

"No. Infact I think it's just about the nicest thing you could have done." She could no longer restrain the tear that rolled down her cheek. "You helped bring her back-" her voice caught in her throat as she said it. "-thank you so much"

"Well. They both looked after you when I didn't." Charles also found himself choked up, and smiled despite his emotions. "I want them to be happy like we are."

"Let's just hope they can sort it out."

* * *

As Julia walked out of the room, searching the corridors to try and seek out his tall figure, she spotted him at the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes were firmly focused on the ceiling, and he didn't acknowledge her approach until the very last minute, her soft shoes failing to make a sound on the floor. She stood above him, blocking out the view of the light he had been focusing on. She forced her shaky voice to maintain a steady output as she watched him look at anything but her.

"You didn't leave?"

Only silence existed between them, as he forced himself to look at her properly for the first time. "No. I didn't leave" he sighed, folding his arms as she stood awkwardly in front of him.

"We need to talk." She said the words hesitantly, but there was a glimmer of quiet determination in her eyes. Brains was similarly determined, but for different reasons. "We need to talk, do we? Fine. Why are you here?" His tone was filled with hostility, and Julia took a step back, with an element of surprise. "Really? No awkward small talk for even a couple of minutes? Not even a 'how have you been'? Just straight down to business?"

"There's no point in small talk. Just go and see Molly and the baby. That's why you're here. You don't need to pretend, or force yourself to speak to me; you don't owe me anything."

She sighed with an undertone of annoyance at how the conversation was going downhill before it had even started. He had a way of climbing under her skin and affecting her that nobody else had ever managed. She had always remained aloof and impenetrable with everybody else she met; something which he made absolutely impossible. "You really have no fucking clue, do you?"

He suddenly found his feet very interesting, focusing on his converse trainers as he scuffed the rubber toe against the hard hospital floor. "You know what? I'm not interested in a fight with you Jules. Go back in the room and forget this ever happened." He made sure to look up at her for the last sentence. "You're good at that" he smiled bitterly.

She let out a small snarl of frustration as she sat down on the floor beside him, back also to the wall. "My _god_, you're infuriating!"

He laughed briefly at that, although it was less bitter and more of a tortured and masochistic satisfaction to be there; arguing the toss with her, instead of suffering in complete and utter silence, as he had been doing for almost two months. He barely paused after it, before launching into a response. "I'm infuriating?! I don't know why you find me infuriating since you don't give two fucks about me, or anything I say." His temper was now getting the better of him, and he finally stood with his back to her, unable to contemplate sitting beside her, within touching distance, for any longer.

Julia was having none of it though, her eyes a steely blue as she realised what it was going to take to make him listen to her. "Right, you're gonna be a child then." He turned and looked back at her with something that resembled only raw pain, and she almost crumbled in the face of it before gathering herself. "Sit back down and fucking listen to what I've got to say, you stubborn, infuriating, idiot." Her tone told him in no uncertain terms that she meant business, and he reluctantly returned to his place on the floor, oblivious to a small number of passers by who looked at the bickering pair with intrigued glances as they walked past.

Julia waited until he was seated back down beside her before she dared to take his hand in hers. She laced her fingers around his, and felt him try to pull away. She didn't let him. She placed their joined hands in her lap and whispered the words she had been waiting to say to him as she watched him with glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry."

The words caught him by surprise, and he looked up from where his gaze had been concentrated on their hands. "For what?" he challenged her, with a note of defiance in his voice, allowing some hope to creep in that maybe she was just as affected as him.

"Cos I pushed you away in Canada. And cos you let me push you away."

With that answer he almost pulled his hand away again, but she was unwilling to let him go. He didn't let her escape his annoyance though. "I let you?! I wasn't given much fucking choice Julia, incase you hadn't noticed. When you try and give up everything to be with somebody, and they tell you not to bother cos they don't love you, it's a bit difficult to do anything but listen."

She looked away, down the corridor, still ashamed of the words she had said to him. "I didn't say that."

"What?"

Her voice was unusually small. "I didn't say that I don't love you."

He let out a sarcastic chuckle as he reasoned with her. "I told you I loved you and you didn't say it back."

"That doesn't mean that I don't love you." He felt her hand caressing his, her thumb rubbing his palm reassuringly as her words began to dawn on him. A sudden, terrifying confidence burst through him as he registered just what she was getting at.

"So. Do you?"

"What?"

He smirked, finding his rush of affection for her sudden shyness overwhelming. "Love me?"

Julia rewarded him with a small grin before meeting his eyes. "You drive me nuts. You never give up trying to talk about things, even when I don't want to, or trying to have the last word. You've always got an answer for everything. I can't bloody stand you half the time."

He didn't think he could smile much wider as he suppressed a laugh at her answer. "That doesn't answer the question."

She brought her free hand in front of her to gesture her sheer impatience with him. "See what I mean?!" He continued to smirk and she sighed theatrically. "Yes, I love you. I've loved you since pretty much the first time I argued the toss with you."

He grinned at her, a sense of triumph radiating from him. Her sudden grin matched his. "Don't get too cocky. I bloody hate you too."

He made a sudden move to pull her from her place beside him on the floor, so that she landed in his lap with a half giggle, half surprised yelp. "Nah, you don't. You love me!" He taunted her triumphantly as his nose nuzzled her neck, and she squirmed in his lap as she returned the affection, burying her face in his t-shirt. "I can always change my mind, you know" she mumbled into his chest.

He continued to tighten his hold on her, refusing to let her pull away this time. "I always knew you couldn't resist me."

"Oh really" she pulled away, her tone sarcastic and full of false wonder. "That totally explains the sulking little boy act you were working on till about five minutes ago."

"Jules?"

"What?"

"Shut the fuck up, and come 'ere." He smiled as he fixed his hand to the back of her head and pulled her lips towards his. She was determined that the last word would be hers though, and muttered into his mouth with a smile lighting up her face just before he kissed her.

"Scouse tosser"

He pulled briefly away from where his lips finally rested on hers, ignoring her frustrated moan. "Scouse tosser, that you love" he shot back, giving her no chance to reply as he crushed her lips with a force that left neither of them caring who had the last word.

* * *

_**23rd May 2019 **_

Molly took in the view from her spot in the sunshine, overlooking the sight that filled her with contentment. The grass field was bathed in the warm glow from the sun as a number of figures competed in a makeshift game of rounders before her. From behind her sunglasses she focused on the athletic figure of Charles, taking the game in with the utmost seriousness on his face. He strode around the grassy surface in his low-slung jeans and t-shirt, trying to maintain some semblance of order in the face of complete chaos. His role of referee had been adopted with such enthusiasm that Molly sat sniggering at the sight. Unfortunately for Charles, his serious role was being steadily undermined by Lily, now four months old and blowing a continuous stream of contented raspberries from where she sat upright in her father's arms. The players couldn't quite take their referee seriously when he stopped every couple of minutes to coo at his baby daughter with a lovestruck grin on his face.

The group activity had been a last minute suggestion from Kinders, who 'just happened' to have a spare bat, ball and set of posts lurking in his car. The intention had been to stop for a picnic on the spot overlooking the estuary and boathouse at Laugharne. It was a beautiful place, and one which held vivid memories for Molly, of that faraway time spent on R&amp;R with Smurf. It was at the same boathouse, looking over the water, that Smurf had shared with Molly the story of Charles' role at Geraint's funeral. More than 5 years later, she still vividly recalled the sense of warm contentedness that had washed over her on hearing Smurf recite that passage from Under Milk Wood, whilst allowing herself to dream of what could potentially happen between her and the bossman. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the time spent in Newport was a memory she would forever associate in her heart with her old friend and with her and Charles. She suddenly found herself hoping that Smurf would be looking down on them all proudly. Her heart still constricted at the thought that he would never be a part of this again.

Her silent musings were interrupted by an almighty shout from the opposite side of the field. Brains was making a valiant run towards the final post in the course, cheered on by his teammates, and set to win the game, when he suddenly found himself pinned to the ground on his back by an unexpected tackle. Molly burst out laughing as she watched the spectacle of Julia and Fingers launching themselves at him with matching competitive force, tackling him to the ground before he had the chance to complete his home run. A shout erupted from him as he fell to the ground theatrically.

"Ref!-" Brains called out at Charles from a collapsed heap on the floor with Julia still on top of him, trapping him on the grass "-illegal foul!" He was easily distracted from his outrage when she moved in for a passionate kiss as she signalled behind her back for Fingers to retrieve the ball and take Brains out of the game. Fingers willingly obliged and made his move before he could be halted.

"For fuck's sake Brains!" Dangles screamed at him with exasperation from the other side of the field as he and Baz held their arms up in matching disbelief at their friends surrender. "Taken out by his missus. Under the thumb ain't even the word."

Brains continued to enjoy himself, flicking two fingers in the air at his fellow team members from his place under Julia as he continued to kiss her, just to confirm beyond any doubt that he no longer cared if he had lost the game. The pair continued until Charles intervened, nearing them with Lily still in his arms.

"Right players, no indecency in front of our young spectators" he covered Lily's eyes with his hand as she giggled at the impromptu game of peekaboo. They broke apart and Julia grudgingly withdrew herself from the embrace, groaning as she pulled herself up from the grass to the shaking head of Charles. "Complete disregard for the rules, Maguire. I should send you off."

"Too late! I quit anyway." Julia ignored his tuts and held her arms out to Lily, who giggled with delight and reciprocated, thrusting a pair of chubby arms towards her, and kicking her legs furiously.

"Come on gorgeous, come and see me." She laughed as she took Lily in her arms and spoke with animation to her, pointing out the cluster of dandelions in the field before picking one and blowing it, earning another furious giggle from her young companion. Brains jumped up from the ground and soon joined in the game. He blew the flowers with such gusto that Lily squealed again with utter delight.

Now alone, Charles sauntered towards the large picnic rug, observing Molly's outstretched bare legs where she lay before him, soaking up the warm rays of the sun. As she watched him approach, she was suddenly glad of her blacked out sunglasses, which allowed her to secretly focus on the way his body moved while he approached her, all tanned arms and long legs, grinning with anticipation. She bit back a sudden overwhelming feeling of need for him at that precise moment. If somebody had told her, exactly one year ago, that the next reunion would look like this, she would have laughed out loud. Five years exactly after the grey, maudlin, depressing day of Smurf's funeral; 2 section had gathered together once more, to celebrate his life.

"Aren't you going to play?" Charles finally reached her, launching himself beside her on the rug which she had placed strategically to catch the warmth from the sun.

"Nah, too busy checkin' out the ref. He's pretty hot you know."

Charles chuckled as he pulled her into his arms. "Best not let your future husband hear you say that. He might get a tad worried."

"Nah-", Molly shook her head as she charmed him with her best smile "-he knows I've only really got eyes for him."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Molly now stretched out in front of Charles on the rug, with her back resting against his chest. She was still distracted by her thoughts of the past, and all that had changed over the last year in particular. Back when she was terrified to travel anywhere near Newport for fear of being confronted by the demons of the past. Those demons were finally laid to rest, and as she watched the scene before her, feeling the heat of Charles' body behind her, she felt incredibly calm.

"You ok?" Charles rested his chin on her shoulder and enquired from his place behind her. "You're too quiet."

"Too quiet?" she turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in surprise at his observation.

"Yes. It worries me when you're quiet. Means you're thinking too much. And we both know how dangerous that is." He grinned at her annoyed look as she aimed an elbow behind her to catch him neatly in the ribs. "Oi. Stop taking the piss."

The silence returned for a moment, until Molly made the conscious decision to break it. "If you must know, I'm thinking about last year. Don't think things could be any more different now."

Charles smiled knowingly. "Well, one thing's still the same."

"What's that then?"

"You're still the love of my life" he whispered quietly in her ear. "Although, you might have a bit of competition now" he aimed a look in Lily's direction, where she remained with Julia and Brains, having fun amongst the dandelions.

A full grin lit up Molly's face at the sight. "We made her here, exactly a year ago."

"I know" he kissed the soft skin behind her ear lightly before he continued to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on her neck. They weren't stopped by his next question, his tone husky with want. "You want to make another one this year?"

His fingers had risen from her waist to brush the side of her right breast through her vest top, and she squirmed as a warm fire lit in her stomach at the sensation. He continued to lightly brush her skin, enjoying the moan it elicited from her.

"Go on then", she continued to grin, not even debating her answer for a second.

* * *

By the time an early dusk had fallen, all of the participants in the afternoon of fun and games had gathered together at that same spot, laughing and joking in each other's company. An evening chill had set in the air, and Molly stood briefly to check the contents of the buggy beside her, where Lily lay flat on her back under a blanket, her tiny hand gathered in the chocolate brown curls on her own head. Her mouth was slightly agape as she slept peacefully, despite the noise coming from the assembled group. Molly lay a hand on her daughter's chest, and kissed her forehead briefly before returning to her place beside Charles.

Brains was kept busy distributing plastic glasses amongst the group, before he pulled a bottle of champagne from his bag and popped the cork loudly, earning a glare from his best friend as he crouched down beside her with the open bottle.

"You wake Lily up, and you're dealing with the screaming" she warned him knowingly.

"She loves her Uncle Brains too much to scream at me" he laughed, pouring the bubbling liquid into the glass in Molly's outstretched hand.

"Who said I was talkin' about Lily?" She laughed as he pulled the bottle away from her in mock annoyance, before dispensing it to the rest of the group, making sure every glass was filled. He sat down beside Julia and addressed the group.

"Alright lads. I think you'll agree things are a bit different this year, and we've got a few extras with us" he glanced to his side. "But I've done the same toast every year, and I won't change it this time." He cleared his throat before looking at the group who surrounded him, Julia squeezing his hand tightly in support.

"Our boy Smurfoid was a one off; a piss-taking, sheep-shagging, daffodil munching, Welsh wanker." The customary sniggers followed from his audience. "But he was _our_ piss-taking, sheep-shagging, daffodil munching, Welsh wanker. And we loved him for it."

The rest of the assembled group were well versed in the toast by now, and raised their glasses in the air as the sun set around them in that beautiful spot next to his home town.

"To Smurf" the chorus of voices rang into the evening air and travelled upwards into the sky, as the group remembered their fallen friend, and counted their individual blessings.

Of those, there were many.

:::::::

THE END

* * *

_**AN. Well. It's the end! **_

_**Although I've written 3 stories, this is the longest one, and has certainly been the most challenging! I feel almost sick at the thought of finally ending it - don't know if it's relief that I've finally got to this point with it, or regret about not writing any more! **_

_**All I do know is that I really need to thank everyone who has given a single word of encouragement or support for the story, as every word of it was what spurred me on to go on and finish it. Special thanks to the amazing community of OG ff writers who always give each other such brilliant support, with special mention to pinerug, itsembarrassing and so everybody dance, all of whom have been very kind to me. Without their combined words of encouragement I probably wouldn't have even uploaded chapter 1, never mind gone on to write and upload 22 chapters, so thanks very much. It's easy to feel like you aren't doing very well at this ff writing business, and we all feel it at different times, so thanks for keeping me going when I've had my wobbles with this.**_

_**It's been a pleasure to share the story with you all, and all I can say is that I really hope you enjoyed the different take on where Molly and CJ's story could have gone. **_

_**Thanks very much for reading.**_

_**Jen xx**_


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